THE  BENSON  LIBRARY  OF  HYMNOLOGY 

Endowed  by  the  Reverend 

Louis  Fitzgerald  Benson,  d.d. 

t 

LIBRARY  OF  THE  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 
PRINCETON,   NEW  JERSEY 


v 


J 


JOHN    HENRY   NEWMAN. 


H  Y  M  N  S 


BY 


JOHN    HENRY   NEWMAN,   D.D. 


'•      i  pauca  relicti 
Jugera  ruris  erant ;  nee  fcrtilis  ilia  juvencis 
Nee  pecori  opportuna  seges,  nee  cornmoda  Bacckc. 
Kie  rarum  tamen  in  dumisolus,  albaque  circum 
Lflia,  verbenasque  premens,  vescumque  papaver, 
Regum  aequabat  opes  animis." 


E.    P. 


NEW   YORK 
DUTTON   &   COMPANY 


:    Twenty-third  Street 
l886 


Copyright. 

18S5. 

By  E    P.  DUTTON  &  CO. 


PRESS  OF  J.    J.    LITTLE  &  CO., 
NOS.    IO   TO    20   ASTOR    PLACE,    NEW    YORK. 


PREFACE. 


The  poems  of  the  author  of  "Lead,  Kind- 
ly Light  "  need  no  recommendation  to  the 
public.  Wherever  the  English  language  is 
spoken,  that  hymn  is  a  favorite  :  it  has  given 
expression  and  assuagement  to  thousands 
groping  in  the  darkness  of  spiritual  conflict 
or  oi  bereavement,  who  will  like  to  see  what 
else  of  the  kind  the  author  has  produced. 
And  though  there  may  be  nothing  with  the 
same  familiar  sound  and  sweet  associations, 
there  is  much  to  repay  study,  and  not  a  lit- 
tle that  is  worthy  to  be  counted  among  a 
hymn-lover's  treasures  for  evermore. 

John  Henry  Newman  is  almost  coeval  with 
the  century,  in  the  religious  history  of  which 
his  name  will  occupy  so  prominent  a  place. 
The  outward  facts  of  his  life  are  few  and 
quickly  told  :  of  his  intellectual  career  only  a 


3l& 


iv  PREFACE. 

brief  outline  can  here  be  given.  He  was 
born  in  London,  February  21st,  i8cr  ;  he 
entered  Trinity  College,  Oxford,  1816  ;  was 
elected  Fellow  of  Oriel  College,  1822  ;  received 
orders  in  the  English  Church,  1824;  was  Vice- 
Principal  of  Alban  Hall,  under  Dr.  Whately, 
1825-26  ;  tutor  of  Oriel,  1826-32  ;  Vicar  of 
St.  Mary's,  Oxford  and  Littlemore,  1828-43  ; 
editor  of  the  "  British  Critic,"  1838-41.  But 
he  is  best  known  as  the  chief-mover  in  that 
great  religious  upheaval  of  our  age,  the  final 
effects  of  which  none  of  us  will  live  to  trace, 
variously  known  as  the  "  Oxford,"  the  "  High 
Church"  and  the  "  Tractarian  Movement/' 
— the  last  and  most  characteristic  of  these 
names  being  derived  from  the  celebrated  se- 
ries of  "Tracts  for  the  Times,"  to  which  he 
was  much  the  largest  contributor.  The  clos- 
ing one  was  the  famous  ' ( No.  XC.  "  an  attempt 
to  reconcile  the  "XXXIX.  Articles"  with  the 
canons  and  decrees  of  the  Council  of  Trent, 
which  roused  so  much  alarm  and  indignation 
as  to  compel  his  diocesan  to  request  the  dis- 
continuance of  the  series.  Newman  obeyed, 
but  under  protest ;  and  his  tendencies  became 


EFA    A 

more  and  more  pronounced,  until,  by  a  l< 
cal  necessity,  in  September,  1845,  ms  ^ast 
words  as  an  Anglican  clergyman  were  spoken 
to  a  small  gathering  of  friends  and  pupils  in 
his  home-chapel  at  Littlemore,  and  in  the 
following  October,  he  was  received  into  the 
communion  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church. 
In  1846,  he  visited  Rome,  was  admitted  to 
the  priesthood,  joined  the  Oratory  of  St 
Philip  Xeri,  founded  a  branch  thereof  in  Eng- 
gland  on  his  return  thither,  in  1848.  and  has 
spent  most  of  his  life  since  as  the  Head  of  the 
Birmingham  House, — albeit,  in  1852,  he 
founded  the  Roman  Catholic  University  at 
Dublin,  and  acted  as  its  Rector  until  1858. 
He  was  made  Cardinal,  May  12th.  1879. 

In  1864,  he  published  his  "  Apologia  pro 
Vita  Sua,''  which  gives  a  history  of  the  devel- 
opment of  his  religious  opinions  from  his 
youth  up,  and  furnishes  much  incidental  evi- 
dence that  his  mental  and  spiritual  constitu- 
tion was  of  the  sort  which  seems  almost  pre- 
destined to  find  its  final  home  in  the  Roman 
fold.  He  says  of  his  school-days  :  "  My  im- 
agination ran  on  unknown  influences,  on  mag- 


vi  PREFACE. 

ical  powers  and  talismans.  ...  I  thought 
life  might  be  a  dream,  or  I  an  angel,  and  all 
this  world  a  deception  ;  my  fellow-angels  by  a 
playful  device  concealing  themselves  from  me, 
and  deceiving  me  with  the  semblance  of  a 
material  world.'*''  And  again  :  u  I  was  very  su- 
perstitious .  .  .  and  used  constantly  to  cross 
myself  when  going  into  the  dark  ; ,?  yet  he 
could  "make  no  sort  of  conjecture'"'  whence 
this  practice  was  derived.  He  also  mentions 
a  "deep  imagination,"  that  he  was  called  to  a 
celibate  life,  which  took  possession  of  him  in 
1816,  and  strengthened  his  "  feeling  of  separa- 
tion from  a  visible  world.  "  During  his  thirty- 
six  years  of  residence  at  Oxford,  he  was  brought 
into  more  or  less  intimate  relations  with 
Whately,  Keble,  Pusey,  Mozley,  the  Froudes, 
the  Wilberforces,  etc.  He  was  counted 
austere  and  reserved  by  some,  kindly  and  gen- 
ial by  others,  — the  truth  seeming  to  be  that  he 
was  reserved  by  nature,  and  especially  so  with 
strangers  and  antipathetic  persons,  but  knew 
how  to  unbend  and  be  companionable  and 
delightful  to  his  friends.  It  is  plain  that  he 
exerted  a  powerful  influence  upon  those  admit- 


PREFACE.  vii 

ted  to  his  intimacy  ;  he  had  always  a  devoted 
circle  of  adherents,  many  of  whom  preceded 
or  followed  him  into  the  Church  of  Rome, 
notably  Faber  and  Caswall. 

His  life  has  been  an  industrious  one  ;  the 
list  of  his  published  works  numbers  over  thirty- 
volumes, — theological,  historical,  polemical, 
— among  them  two  works  of  fiction.  They 
have  a  twofold  interest,  as  treating  the  subject 
in  hand  with  great  power  and  brilliancy  both 
of  thought  and  style,  and  as  milestones  mark- 
ing the  stages  by  which  a  mind  of  no  com- 
mon order  passed  from  the  Anglican  to  the 
Roman  faith.  In  the  latter  aspect,  they  may 
afford  some  comfort  to  all  who  are  alarmed 
at  the  widening  flood  of  materialistic  unbe- 
lief, as  tending  to  show  the  presence  and  pow- 
er of  the  supernatural  element  in  and  over 
man,  and  that  there  will  always  be  intellects, 
neither  ignorant  nor  feeble,  who  can  find  no 
rest  nor  satisfaction  save  in  a  definite,  dog- 
matic faith. 

Comparatively  few  of  Newman's  poems  were 
written  after  his  secession,  yet  several  of  those 
dated  vears  before  show  how  far  he  had  slid- 


viii  PREFACE. 

den,  consciously  or  not,  from  his  ostensible 
standpoint,  before  he  planted  himself  squarely 
on  the  true  one.  Both  of  these  classes — not 
more  than  a  dozen  in  all — are  necessarily  can- 
celled in  a  volume  intended  chiefly  for  the 
protestant  world ; — with  all  respect  for  the 
faith  and  taste  of  others,  we  must  needs  exer- 
cise the  right  of  selection  for  ourselves  ;  it  is 
possible  to  be  not  less  reverent  in  rejection 
than  in  acceptance.  Among  the  latter  pro- 
ductions, the  "  Dream  ofGerontius  "  stands  so 
pre-eminent  in  felicity  of  language  and  beauty 
of  thought  and  imagery,  that  it  is  retained 
almost  entire,  notwithstanding  its  length.  A 
large  latitude  is  allowable  in  a  work  so  purely 
imaginative  ;  nor  does  the  doctrine  of  purga- 
tory appear  in  a  form  that  need  greatly  offend 
whomsoever  believes  in  any  intermediate 
state  between  the  death  of  the  body  and  the 
soul's  final  entrance  upon  the  perfect  bliss  of 
heaven.  The  poem's  excellence  as  a  whole 
may  easily  atone  for  some  doubtful  flights  of 
fancy.  Finally,  to  show  somewhat  of  the  soft- 
er and  so  to  speak,  more  human  side  of  the 
poet's   character,   a  large  part  of  the    earlier, 


PREFACE.  ix 

more  secular  and  personal  poems,  which 
could  not  be  classed  under  the  general  title 
of  "  Hymns,"  are  given  in  an  Appendix. 
The  preparation  of  the  volume  for  the  press, 
with  no  enthusiam  for  th?  task,  has 
become  so  truly  a  labor  of  love  as  to  justify 
the  expression  of  the  belief  that  all  who  bring 
a  much  smaller  measure  of  the  same  careful 
study  to  these  poems,  will  be  rewarded  by  the 
same  ultimate  delight  in  their  beauty  of 
thought  and  construction.  They  are  instinct 
with  that  spiritual  grace  and  life  which  are 
the  heritage  and  hope  of  "all  who  profess 
and  call  themselves  Christians." 

W.  M.  L.  J. 
New  York,    1885. 


r 


b" 


DEDICATION, 


TO    EDWARD   BADELEY,   ESQ. 

My  dear  Badeley  : 

I  have  not  been  without  apprehen- 
sion lest,  in  dedicating  to  you  a  number  of 
poetical  compositions,  I  should  hardly  be 
making  a  suitable  offering  to  a  member  of  a 
grave  profession,  which  is  especially  employed 
in  rubbing  off  the  gloss  with  which  imagina- 
tion and  sentiment  invest  matters  of  every- 
day life,  and  in  reducing  statements  of  fact 
to  their  legitimate  dimensions.  And,  besides 
this,  misgivings  have  not  unnaturally  come 
over  me  on  the  previous  question  ;  viz.,  wheth- 
er, after  all,  the  contents  of  the  volume  are 
of  sufficient  importance  to  make  it  an  accept- 
able offering  to  any  friend  whatever. 

And  I  must  frankly  confess,  as  to  the  latter 
difficulty,  that  certainly  it  never  would  have 


xii  DEDICA  TION. 

occurred  to  me  thus  formally  to  bring  togeth- 
er under  one  title  effusions  which  I  have  ever 
considered  ephemeral,  had  I  not  lately  found 
from  publications  of  the  day.  what  1  never  sus- 
pected before,  that  there  are  critics,  and  they 
strangers  to  me,  who  think  well  both  of  some 
of  my  compositions  and  of  my  power  of  com- 
posing. It  is  this  commendation,  bestowed 
on  me  to  my  surprise  as  well  as  to  my  gratifica- 
tion, which  has  encouraged  me  just  now  to 
republish  what  I  have  from  time  to  time  writ- 
ten ;  and  if,  in  doing  so,  I  shall  be  found,  as 
is  not  unlikely,  to  have  formed  a  volume  of 
unequal  merit,  my  excuse  must  be,  that  I 
despair  of  discovering  any  standard  by  which 
to  discriminate  aright  between  one  poetical 
attempt  and  another.  Accordingly,  I  am 
thrown,  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  whether 
I  will  or  no,  upon  my  own  judgment,  which 
biased  by  the  associations  of  memory  and  by 
personal  feelings,  and  measuring,  perhaps, 
by  the  pleasure  of  verse-making,  the  worth 
of  the  verse,  is  disposed  either  to  preserve 
them  all,  or  to  put  them  all  aside. 

Here    another    contrast  presents  itself  be- 


DED1CATI0X.  xiii 

tsvcen  the  poetical  art  and  the  science  of  law. 
Your  profession  has  its  definitive  authorities, 
its  prescriptions,  its  precedents,  and  its  prin- 
ciples, by  which  to  determine  the  claim  of  its 
authors  on  public  attention  ;  but  what  phil- 
osopher will  undertake  to  rule  matters  of 
■.  or  to  bring  under  one  idea  or  method, 
works  so  different  from  each  other  as  those  of 
Homer,  ^Eschvlus,  and  Pindar;  of  Terence, 
Ovid,  Juvenal,  and  Martial  ?  What  court  is 
sitting,  and  what  code  is  received,  for  the  sat- 
isfactory determination  of  the  poetical  preten- 
sions of  writers  of  the  day  ?  Whence  can  we 
hope  to  gain  a  verdict  upon  them,  except 
from  the  unscientific  tribunals  of  Public 
Opinion  and  of  Time  ?  In  Poetry,  as  in 
Metaphysics,  a  book  is  of  necessity  a  venture. 
And  now,  coming  to  the  suitableness  of 
my  offering,  I  know  well,  my  dear  Badeley, 
how  little  you  will  be  disposed  to  criticise 
what  comes  to  you  from  me,  whatever  be  its 
intrinsic  value.  Less  still  in  this  case,  con- 
sidering that  a  chief  portion  of  the  volume 
grew  out  of  that  Religious  Movement  which 
you  yourself,  as  well    as  I,  so  faithfully  fol- 


Xiv  DEDICA  TJOX. 

lowed  from  first  10  last.  And  least  of  all, 
when  I  tell  you  that  1  wish  it  to  be  the  poor 
expression,  long-delayed,  of  my  gratitude, 
never  intermitted,  for  the  great  services  which 
you  rendered  to  me  years  ago,  by  your  legal 
skill  and  affectionate  zeal,  in  a  serious  matter 
in  which  I  found  myself  in  collision  with  the 
law  of  the  land.  Those  services  I  have  ever 
desired  in  some  public,  however  inadequate, 
way  to  record  ;  and  now,  as  time  hurries  on 
and  opportunities  are  few,  1  am  forced  to  ask 
you  to  let  me  acknowledge  my  debt  to  you 
as  I  can,  since  I  cannot  as  I  would. 

We  are  now,  both  of  us,  in  the  decline  of 
life  :  may  that  warm  attachment  which  has 
lasted  between  us  inviolate  for  so  many  years, 
be  continued,  by  the  mercy  of  God,  to  the  end 
of  our  earthly  course,  and  beyond  it  ! 
I  am,  my  dear  Badeley, 

Affectionately  yours, 

'   J.  H.  X. 

The  Oratory, 

December  21,  1876, 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

The  Trance  of  Time 21 

Paraphrase  of  Isaiah,  ch.  lxiv    23 

Consolations  in  Bereavement 26 

A  Voice  from  afar   2S 

The  Hidden  Ones 20 

A  Thanksgiving   32 

The  Brand  of  Cain    34 

Zeal  and  Love 34 

Persecution 35 

Zeal  and   Purity 36 

The  Gift  of  Perseverance    37 

The  Sign  of  the  Cross 3S 

Bondage 39 

The  Scars  of  Sin 40 

Angelic  Guidance 41 

Substance  and  Shadow 42 

Wanderings 43 

The  Saint  and  the  Hero 44 

Private  Judgment 45 

The  Watchman 46 

xv 


XVI  CONTENTS. 

TAGE 

Memory 47 

The  Haven 48 

A  Word  in  Season 49 

Fair  Words 50 

Moses 51 

The  Patient  Church 52 

Jeremiah 53 

Penance 54 

The  Course  of  Truth 55 

Christmas  without  Christ 56 

Sleeplessness 57 

Abraham .....  58 

The  Greek  Fathers   59 

The  Witness 60 

The  Death  of  Moses 62 

Melchizedek 63 

Transfiguration 64 

Behind  the  Veil 65 

Judgment 66 

Sensitiveness , 6j 

David  and  Jonathan. 68 

Humiliation 69 

The  Call  of  David 70 

A  Blight 72 

Joseph 73 

Superstition 74 

Isaac 75 

Reverses 76 

Hope 77 


h 


COXTEXTS.  xvn 

PAGE 

St.  Paul  at  Melita 7S 

Warnings -  .  79 

Dreams   80 

Temptation 81 

Our  Future 82 

Heathenism 83 

Taormini 84 

Sympathy 85 

Relics  of  Saints 86 

Day -laborers.  . 87 

Warfare 88 

Sacrilege 90 

Liberalism , 91 

Declenson 92 

The  Age  to  Come 94 

External  Religion ....    95 

St.  Gregory  Nazianzen 96 

Reverence 98 

The  Pillar  of  the  Cloud 99 

Samaria 100 

Jonah 101 

Faith  against  Sight 103 

Desolation 104 

Zeal  and  Patience 105 

The  Religion  of  Cain ic6 

St.  Paul 108 

Flowers  without  Fruit 109 

Zeal  and  Meekness 1 10 

Vexations   1 1 1 

2 


xvni  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

The  Church  in  Prayer 112 

The  Wrath  to  Come 113 

Pusillanimity   114 

James  and  John 1 15 

Hora  Novissima   1 16 

Consolation 117 

Uzzah  and  Obed-Edom 118 

The  Gift  of  Tongues. . . 119 

The  Power  of  Prayer '    120 

Semita  Justorum 121 

The  Elements 122 

Judaism 124 

Separation  of  Friends 126 

Morning 128 

Evening 128 

A  Hermitage ...  129 

Intercession   130 

Waiting  for  the  Morning 131 

Hymns  for  Matins,  Sunday 133 

"        135 

"  "         Monday 136 

"  "        Tuesday 137 

"  '%         Wednesday 138 

"  "         Thursday 139 

"  "         Friday 140 

"  "         Saturday 141 

Hymns  for  Lauds,  Sunday 143 

"        145 

"  "         Monday 146 


CONTENTS. 

Kymns  for  Lauds,  Tuesday 148 

';                 "         Wednesday 149 

•'                 "         Thursday 151 

"                 "         Friday 152 

"                 "         Saturday 153 

Hymn  for  Prime    154 

Hymn  for  Terce 156 

Hymn  for  Sext 157 

Hymn  for  Xone 158 

Hymns  for  Vespers,  Sunday 159 

"                    "         Monday.. 160 

Tuesday 162 

"                    "         Wednesday 163 

Thursday 164 

"                    "         Friday 165 

"                   "         Saturday   167 

Hymn  for  Compline 168 

Hymn  for  First  Vespers,  Advent 169 

Hymn  for  Matins                    "      170 

Hymn  for  Lauds,  Advent 171 

Hymn  for  Matins,  Transfiguration 173 

Hymn  for  Lauds,               "               174 

Hymn  for  a  Martyr 175 

Ethelwald 176 

Candlemas 1 78 

Guardian  Angel 179 

A  Martyr  Convert 182 

The  Two  Worlds 184 

St.  Michael 186 

The  Dream  of  Gerontius 187 


APPENDIX. 


PAGE 

Solitude 235 

To  F.  W.  N.,  on  his  birthday 236 

Nature  and  Art 240 

Snapdragon 244 

A  Picture 247 

My  Lady  Xature,  &c 250 

Monks 254 

The  Winter  Flower 258 

Home 259 

The  Isles  of  Syrens 260 

Corcyra 261 

Messina 262 

Progress  of  Unbelief 263 

The  Priestly  Office 264 

Married  and  Single 264 

The  Queen  of  Seasons. 271 

Heathen  Greece 274 

To  Edward  Caswall 275 

xx 


THE  TRANCE  OF  TIME. 

-  Felix,  qui  potuit  rerum  cognoscere  causas, 
Atquc  metus  omnes,  et  inexorabile  farum 
Subjccit  pedibu?,  strepituinque  Acherontis  avari  1    ; 

In  childhood,  when  with  eager  eyes 
The  season-measured  year  I  view'd. 
All,  garb?d  in  fain'  guise, 
Pledged  constancy  of  srood. 


Spring  sang  of  heaven  ;  the  summer  flowers 
Bade  me  gaze  on,  and  did  not  fade  ; 
Even  suns  o'er  autumns  bowers 
Heard  my  strong  wish,  and  stay'd. 

21 


J 


22  THE    TRANCE    OE    TIME, 

They  came  and  went,  the  short-lived  four  ; 
Yet,  as  their  varying  dance  they  wove, 
To  my  young  heart  each  bore 
Its  own  sure  claim  of  love. 

Far  different  now  ; — the  whirling  year 
Vainly  my  dizzy  eyes  pursue  ; 
And  its  fair  tints  appear 
All  blent  in  one  dusk  hue. 

Why  dwell  on  rich  autumnal  lights, 
Spring-time,  or  winter's  social  ring  ? 
Long  days  are  fire-side  nights, 
Brown  autumn  is  fresh  spring. 

Then  what  this  earth  to  thee,  my  heart  ? 
Its  gifts  nor  feed  thee  nor  can  bless. 
Thou  hast  no  owner's  part 
In  all  its  fleetingness. 

The  flame,  the  storm,  the  quaking  ground, 
Earth's  joy,  earth's  terror,  nought  is  thine, 
Thou  must  but  hear  the  sound 
Of  the  still    voice  divine. 


PARAPHRASE    OF  ISA  J  AIL    LXIV.      2$ 

(J  priceless  art  !  (J  princely  state  ! 

E'en  while  by  sense  of  change  opprest, 
Within  to  am 

Heaven's  Age  of  fearless  rest. 

October,  1S27. 


PARAPHRASE 

OF  ISAIAH,   CHAP.    LXIV. 

0  that  Thou  wouldest  rend  the  breadth  of  sky, 
That  veils  Thy  presence  from  the  sons  of  men  ! 
O  that,  as  erst  Thou  earnest  from  on  high 
Sudden  in  strength,  Thou   so  would'st  come 

again  ! 
Track'd  out  by  judgments  was  Thy  hen-  path, 
Ocean  and  mountain  withering  in  Thy  wrath  ! 

Then  would  Thy  name — the  Just,  the  Merci- 
ful— 

Strange  dubious  attributes  to  human  mind — 
Appal  Thy  foes  :  and.  king-,  who  spurn   Thy 

rule, 
Then,  then  flrould   quake  to   hopeless  doom 

consign 'd. 


r 


24      PARAPHRASE    OF  ISAIAH,    LXIV. 

See,  the  stout  bows,,  and  totters  the  secure, 
While  pleasure's  bondsman  hides  his  head  im- 
pure ! 

Come  down  !  for  then    shall   from    its    seven 

bright  springs 
To  him  who  thirsts  the  draught  of  life  be  given; 
Eve  hath  not  seen,  ear  hath    not    heard    the 

things 
Which    He    hath  purposed    for   the  heirs    of 

heaven,  — 
A  God  of  love,  guiding  with  gracious  ray 
Each  meek  rejoicing  pilgrim  on  his  way. 

Yea,  though  we  err,  and  Thine  averted  face 
Rebukes  the  folly  in  Thine  Israel  done, 
Will  not  that  hour  of  chastisement  give  place 
To  beams,  the  pledge  of  an  eternal  sun  ? 
Yes  !  for  His  counsels  to  the  end  endure  ; 
We  shall  be  saved,  our  rest  abideth  sure. 

Lord,  Lord  !   our   sins  .  .  .  our   sins  .  .  .  un- 
clean are  we, 
Gross  and  corrupt;  our  seeming-virtuous  deeds 
Are  but  abominate  ;  all,  dead  to  Thee, 
Shrivel,  like  leaves  when  summer's  green   re- 
cedes ; 


PARAPHRASE    OF  ISAIAH,   LXIV,      25 

While,  like  the  autumn  blast,  our  his 

And  sweep  their  prey  where  the  fell  serpent  lies. 

None,  there  is  none   to    plead    with    God    in 

prayer. 
Bracing  his  laggart  spirit  to  the  work 
Of  intercession  ;  conscience-sprung  despair, 
Sin-loving  still,  doth    in  each  bosom  lurk. 
Guilt  calls  Thee  to  avenge  ; — Thy  risen  ire 
Sears  like  a  brand,  we  gaze  and  we  expire. 

But  now,  O  Lord,  our  Father  !  we  are  Thine, 
Design  and  fashion  ;  senseless  while  we  lay, 
Thou,  as  the  potter,  with  a  Hand  Divine, 
Didst  mould  Thy  vessels  of  the  sluggish  clay. 
Mark  nut  our  guilt,  Thy  word  of  wrath  recall, 
Lo,  we  are  Thine  by  price.  Thy  people  all  ! 

Alas  for  Zion  !  'tis  a  waste  : — the  fair, 

The  holy  place  in  flames  : — where  once  our 

sires 
Kindled  the  sacrifice  of  praise  and  prayer, 
Far  other  brightness  gleams  from  Gentile  fires. 
Low  lies  our  pride  ; — and  wilt  Thou  self-deny 
Thy  rescuing  arm,  unvex*d  amid  Thine  Israel's 

cry  ? 
Brighton.  September,  1S21. 


26    CONSOLA  TIONS  IN  BEKEA  VEMENT, 


CONSOLATIONS  IN  BEREAVEMENT. 

Death  was  full  urgent  with  thee,    Sister  dear, 

And  startling  in  his  speed  ; — 
Brief  pain,  then    languor   till    thy   end   came 
near — 

Such  was  the  path  decreed, 
The  hurried  road 
To  lead  thy    soul   from   earth    to    thine  own 
God's  abode. 

Death  wrought  with  thee,  sweet  maid,    impa- 
tiently : — 

Yet  merciful  the  haste 
That   baffles   sickness  ; — dearest,    thou  didst 
die, 

Thou  wast  not  made  to  taste 
Death's  bitterness, 
Decline's  slow- wasting  charm,  or  fever's  fierce 
distress. 

Death  came  unheralded  : — but  it  was  well  ; 

For  so  thy  Saviour  bore 
Kind  witness,  thou  wast  meet  at  once  to  dwell 

On  His  eternal  shore  ; 


CONSOLATIONS  IN BEREA  i  T.    2~ 

All  warning  spared. 
For  none  He  gives  where  hearts  are  for  prompt 
change  prepared. 

Death  wrought  in  mystery  ;  both   complaint 
and  cure 

To  human  skill  unknown  :  — 
God  put  aside  all  means,  to  make  us  sure 
It  was  His  deed  alone  ; 
Lest  we  should  lay 
Reproach  on  our  poor  selves,  that  thou    wast 
caught  away. 

Death  urgent  as  scant    of  time  : — lest.  Sister 
dear, 

We  many  a  lingering  day 
Had  sickened  with  alternate  hope  and  fear, 
The  ague  of  delay  : 

Watching  each  spark 
Of  promise  quench'd  in  turn,  till  ail  our  sky 
was  dark. 

Death  came  and  went  : — that   so   thy    image 
might 

Our  yearning  hearts  possess, 


A    VOICE    FROM  AFAR. 

Associate  with  all  pleasant  thoughts  and  bright 
With  youth  and  loveliness  ; 
Sorrow  can  claim. 
Mary,  nor  lot  nor  part  in    thy    soft    soothing 
name. 

Joy  ot  sad  hearts,  and  light  of  downcast  eyes  ! 

Dearest  thou  art  enshrined 
In  all  thy  fragrance  in  our  memories  ; 
For  we  must  ever  find 
Bare  thought  of  thee 
Freshen  this  weary  life,  while  weary  life  shall 

be. 
Oxford.  April,  1828. 


A  VOICE  FROM  AFAR. 

Weep  not  for  me  : — 
Be  blithe  as  wont,  nor  tinge  with  gloom 
The  stream  of  love  that  circles  home.. 

Light  hearts  and  free  ! 
Joy  in  the  gifts  Heaven's  bounty  lends  : 
Xor  miss  my  face,  dear  friends  ! 


THE   [HDD EX  OXES.  29 

I  still  am  near  : — 
Watching  the  smiles  I  prized  on  earth, 
Your  converse  mild,  your  blameless  mirth  ; 

Now  too  1  hear 
Of  whisper'd  sounds  the  tale  complete. 
Low  prayers,  and  musings  sweet. 

A  sea  before 
The  Throne  is  spread  ; — its  pure  still  glass 
Pictures  all  earth-scenes  as  they  pass. 

We.  on  its  shore, 
Share,  in  the  bosom  of  our  rest, 

God's  knowledge,  and  are  blest. 

Horsepath.  September  2Q, 


THE  HIDDEN  OXES. 

Hid  are  the  saints  of  God  ; — 
Uncertified  by  high  angelic  sign  ; 
Nor  raiment  soft,  nor  empire's  golden  rod 

Marks  them  divine. 
Theirs  but  the  unbought    air,  earth's    parent 
sod. 

And  the  sun's  smile  benign  : 


30  THE   HIDDEN   OXES. 

Christ  rears  His  throne  within  the  secret  heart. 
From  the  haughty  world  apart. 

They  gleam  amid  the  night, 
Chill  sluggish  mists  stifling  the  heavenly  ray  ; 
Fame  chants  the  while,, — old  history  trims  his 
light, 

Aping  the  day  : 
In  vain  !  staid  look,  loud  voice,  and   reason's 
might 

Forcing  its  learned  way, 
Blind  characters  !  these  aid  us  not  to  trace 
Christ  and  His  princely  race. 

Yet  not  all-hid  from  those 
Who  watch  to  see  ; — neath  their  dulLguise  of 

earth, 
Bright  bursting  beams  unwittingly  disclose 

Their  heaven-wrought  birth. 
Meekness,   love,    patience,    faith's  serene    re- 
pose ; 

And  the  soul's  tutor'd  mirth, 
Bidding  the  slow  heart  dance,    to   prove   her 
power 

O'er  self  in  its  proud  hour. 


THE   11IDDEX  ONES.  31 

These  are  the  chosen  few. 
The  remnant  fruit  of  largely-scatter'd  grace, 

God  sows  in  waste,  to  reap    whom    He    fore- 
knew 

Of  man's  cold  race  : 
Counting  on  wills  perverse,  in  His  clear  view 

Of  boundless  time  and  space, 
He  waits,  by  scant  return  for  treasures  given, 

To  fill  the  thrones  of  heaven. 

Lord  !  who  can  trace  but  Thou 
The  strife  obscure,  'twixt    sin's   soul-thralling 

spell 
And  Thy  keen  Spirit,  now  quench'd,  reviving 
now  ? 

Or  who  can  tell, 
Why   pardon's   seal    stands  sure    on   David's 
brow. 

Why  Saul  and  Demas  fell  ? 
Oh  !  lest  our   frail    hearts    in    the   annealing 
break. 

Help,  for   Thy  mercy's  sake  ! 

Horsepath.  September,  1829. 


32  A    THANKSGIVING. 

A  THANKSGIVING. 
"  Thou  in  faithfulness  hast  afflicted  me." 

Lord,  in  this  dust  Thy  sovereign  voice 
First  quickened  love  divine  ; 

I  am  all  Thine, — Thy  care  and  choice, 
My  very  praise  is  Thine. 

I  praise  Thee,  while  Thy  providence 

In  childhood  frail  I  trace, 
For  blessings  given,  ere  dawning  sense 

Could  seek  or  scan  Thy  grace  ; 

Blessings  in  boyhood's  marvelling  hour3 
Bright  dreams,  and  fancyings  strange  ; 

Blessings,  when  reason's  awful  power 
Gave  thought  a  bolder  range  ; 

Blessings  of  friends,  which  to  my  door 
Unask'd,  unhoped,  have  come  ; 

And,  choicer  still,  a  countless  store 
Of  eager  smiles  at  home. 


^ 


A    THANKSGIVING,  35 

Lord,  in  memory's  fondest  place 
I  shrine  those  seasons  sad, 
When,  looking  up,  I  saw  Thy  lace 
In  kind  austereness  clad. 

I  would  not  miss  one  sigh  or  tear. 

Heart-pang,  or  throbbing  brow  ; 
Sweet  was  the  chastisement  severe, 

And  sweet  its  memory  now. 

\fes  !  let  the  fragrant  scars  abide. 

Love-tokens  in  Thy  stead. 
Faint  shadows  of  the  spear-pierced  side 

And  thorn-encompass'd  head. 

And  such  Thy  tender  force  be  still, 
When  self  would  swerve  or  stray. 
Shaping  to  truth  the  froward  will 
Along  Thy  narrow  way. 

Deny  me  wealth  ;  far,  far  remove 

The  lure  of  power  or  name  ; 
Hope  thrives  in  straits,  in  weakness  love, 

And  faith  in  this  world's  shame. 

Oxford.  October  20,  18 2g. 

2 


34  ZEAL   AND  LOVE. 


THE  BRAND  OF  CAIN. 

I  bear  upon  my  brow  the  sign 

Of  sorrow  and  of  pain  ; 
Alas  !  no  hopeful  cross  is  mine, 

It  is  the  brand  of  Cain. 

The  course  of  passion  and  the  fret 

Of  godless  hope  and  fear, — 
Toil,  care,  and  guilt, — their  hues  have  set, 

And  fix'd  their  sternness  there. 

Saviour  !  wash  out  the  imprinted  shame  ; 
That  I  no  more  may  pine, 
Sin's  martyr,  though  not  meet  to  claim 

Thy  cross,  a  saint  of  Thine 
Oxford.  November  18,  1832. 


ZEAL  AND  LOVE, 

And  would'st  thou  reach,  rash  scholar  mine, 

Love's  high  unruffled  state? 
Awake  !  thy  easy  dreams  resign, 

First  learn  thee  how  to  hate  : — 


PERSECUTION.    .  35 

Hatred  of  sin,  and  Zeal,  and  Fear, 

I.  ad  up  the  Holy  Hill  ; 
Track  them,  till  Charity  appear 

A  -elf-denial  still. 

Dim  is  the  philosophic  flame, 

Bv  thoughts  severe  unfed  : 
Book-lore  ne'er  served,  when  trial  came, 

Xor  [rifts,  when  faith  was  dead. 
Oxford.  November  20,  1832. 


PERSECUTION. 

"And  the  woman  fled  into  the  wilderness.'' 

Say.  who  is  he  in  deserts  seen, 

Or  at  the  twilight  hour  ? 
Of  garb  austere,  and  dauntless  mien, 
Measured  in  speech,  in  purpose  keen, 
Calm  as  in  Heaven  he  had  been, 

Yet  blithe  when  perils  lower. 

My  Holy  Mother  made  reply. 
"  Dear  child,  it  is  my  Pries 
The  world  has  cast  me  forth,  and  I 


36  ZEAL  AND  PURITY. 

Dwell  with  wild  earth  and  gusty  sky  ; 
He  bears  to  men  my  mandates  high, 
And  works  my  sage  behest. 

4 '  Another  day,  dear  child,  and  thou 

Shalt  join  his  sacred  band. 
Ah  !  well  I  deem,  thou  shrinkest  now 
From  urgent  rule,  and  severing  vow ; 
Gay  hopes  flit  round,  and  light  thy  brow  : 

Time  hath  a  taming  hand  !  " 

Oxford.  November  22,  1832. 


ZEAL  AND  PURITY. 

4'  Come  with  me,  and  see  my  zeal  for  the  Lord." 

Thou  to  wax  fierce 

In  the  cause  of  the  Lord, 
To  threat  and  to  pierce 

With  the  heavenly  sword  ! 
Anger  and  Zeal, 

And  the  Joy  of  the  brave, 
Who  bade  thes  to  feel, 

Sin's  slave. 


THE    GIFT  OF   i  37 

The  Altar's  pure  flame 

Consumes  as  it  soa 

Faith  meetly  may  blame, 
F(  >r  it  serves  and  adores. 

Thou  warnest  and  smitest  ! 
Yet  Christ  must  atone 

For  a  soul  that  thou  slightest — 
Thine  own. 

Oxford.  November  23,  1832. 


THF  GIFT  OF  PERSEVERANCE. 

Once,  as  I  brooded  o'er  my  guilty  state, 
A  fever  seized  me,  duties  to  devise. 
To  buy  me  interest  in  my  Saviour's  eyes  : 

Not  that  His  love  I  would  extenuate. 

But  scourge  and  penance,  masterful  self-hate, 
Or  gift  of  cost,  served  by  an  artifice 

To  quell  my  restless  thoughts  and    envious 
sighs. 

And  doubts,  which  fain  heaven's  peace  would 
antedate. 


$8  THE    SIGN  OF   THE    CROSS. 

Thus  as  I  tossed,    He  said  : — "  E'en  holiest 

deeds 
Shroud  not  the  soul  from  God,   nor  soothe 

its  needs  ; 
Deny  thee  thine  own  fears,  and  wait  the  end  S  " 
Stern  lesson  !      Let  me  con  it  day  by  day. 
And    learn    to  kneel    before  the  Omniscient 

Ray,, 
Nor  shrink,  when  Truth's  avenging  shafts  de- 
scend ! 

Oxford.  November  23,  1832. 


THE  SIGN  OF  THE  CROSS. 

Whene'er  across  this  sinful  flesh  of  mine 

I  draw  the  Holy  Sign, 
All  good  thoughts  stir  within  me  and  renew 

Their  slumbering  strength  divine  ; 
Till    there    springs    up  a  courage    high    and 
true 

To  suffer  and  to  do. 


BOX  PAGE.  39 

And  who  shall  say,  but  hateful  spirits   round, 

For  their  brief  hour  unbound. 
Shudder  to  see.  and  wail  their  overthrow  ? 

While  on  far  heathen  ground 
Some  lonely  Saint  hails  the  fresh  odor,  though 

Its  source  he  cannot  know. 

Oxford.  November  25,  1832. 


BONDAGE. 


0  prophet,  tell  me  not  of  peace, 
Or  Christ's  all-loving  deeds  ; 

Death  only  can  from  sin  release, 
And  death  to  judgment  leads. 

Thou  from  thy  birth  hast  set  thy  face 
Towards  thy  Redeemer  Lord  : 

To  tend  and  deck  His  holy  place, 
And  note  His  secret  word. 

1  ne'er  shall  reach  Heaven's  glorious  path  ; 

Yet  haply  tears  may  stay 
The  purpose  of  His  instant  wrath, 
And  slake  the  fiery  day. 


40  THE    SCARS   OF  SIX. 

Then  plead  for  one  who  cannot  pray. 

Whose  faith  is  but  despair, 
Who  hates  his  heart,  nor  puts  away 

The  sin  that  rankles  there. 
Iffley,  November  28,  1832. 


THE  SCARS  OF  SIX. 

My  smile  is  bright,  my  glance  is  free, 

My  voice  is  calm   and  clear  ; 
Dear  friend,  I  seem  a  type  to  thee 

Of  holy  love  and  fear. 

But  I  am  scann'd  by  eyes  unseen. 

And  these  no  saint  surround  : 
They  mete  what  is  by  what  has  been, 

And  joy  the  lost  is  found. 

Erst  my  good  Angel  shrank  to  see 
My  thoughts  and  ways  of  ill : 

And  now  he  scarce  dare  gaze  on  me, 
Scar-seam'd  and  crippled  still. 

Iffley.  November  29,  1832. 


ANGELIC   GUIDAXCE.  41 


ANGELIC  GUIDAXCE. 

Are    these    the    tracks    of    some    unearthly 

Friend, 
His  foot  prints,  and  his  vesture-skirts  of  light, 
Who,  as  I  talk  with  men,  conforms  aright 
Their  sympathetic  words,  or  deeds  that  blend 
With    my    hid  thought ;  — or   stoops  him  to 

attend 
My    doubtful-pleading  grief; — or  blunts  the 

might 
Of  ill  I  see  not  ; — or  in  dreams  of  night 
Figures  the  scope,  in  which  what  is  will  end  ? 
Were  I  Christ's  own,  then  fitly  might  I  call 
That  vision  real  ;  for  to  the  thoughtful  mind 
That  walks  with   Him,  He  half  unveils  His 

face  ; 
But,  when  on  earth-stain'd  souls  such  tokens 

fall, 
These  dare  not  claim  as  theirs  what  there  they 

find, 
Yet,  not  ali  hopeless,  eye  His  boundless  grace. 

Whitchurch.  December  3,  1832. 


42  SUBSTAXCE   AND   SHADOW. 


SUBSTANCE  AND  SHADOW. 

They  do  but  grope  in  learning  s  pedant  round, 
Who  on  the  fantasies  of  sense  bestow 
An  idol  substance,  bidding  us  bow  low 
Before  those  shades  of  being  which  are  found, 
Stirring  or  still,  on  man's  brief  trial-ground  ; 
As  if  such  shapes  and  moods,  which  come  and 

Had    aught    of  Truth  or  Life  in  their  poor 

show, 
To    sway    or   judge,    and    skill    to    sane    or 

wound. 
Son  of  immortal  seed,  high-destined  Man  ! 
Know  thy  dread  gift, — a  creature,  yet  a  cause  : 
Each  mind  is  its  own  centre,  and  it  draws 
Home  to  itself,  and  moulds  in  its  thought's 

span 
All  outward  things,  the  vassals  of  its  will, 
Aided  bv  Heaven,  by  earth  unthwarted  still. 

Falmouth.  December  7,  1832. 


WAXDERIXGS.  43 


WANDERIN 

Ere  yet  I  left  home's  youthful  shrine, 
My  heart  and  hope  were  stored 

Where  first  I  caught  the  rays  divine,. 
And  drank  the  Eternal  Word. 

I  went  afar  :  the  worfd  unroll'd 
Her  many-pictured  page  ; 

I  stored  the  marvels  which  she  told, 
And  trusted  to  her  gage. 

Her  pleasures  quaff 'd.  I  sought  awhile 
The  scenes  I  prized  before  ; 

But  parent's    praise  and  sister's  smile 
Stirr'd  my  cold  heart  no  more. 

So  ever  sear,  so  ever  cloy 
Earth's  favors  as  they  fade  : 

Since  Adam  lost  for  one  fierce  joy 
His  Eden's  sacred  shade. 

Off  the  Lizard.  Dece?nber  8 \  i 


^ 


44        THE   SAINT  AND    THE  HERO. 


THE  SAINT  AND  THE  HERO. 

0  aged  Saint  !  far  off  I  heard 
The  praises  of  thy  name  : — 

Thy  deed  of  power,  thy  prudent  word, 
Thy  zeal's  triumphant  flame. 

1  came  and  saw  ;  and,  having  seen, 

Weak  heart,  I  drew  offence 
From  thy  prompt  smile,  thy  simple  mein, 
Thy  lowly  diligence. 

The  Saint's  is  not  the  Hero's  praise  ; — 

This  I  have  found,  and  learn 
Nor  to  malign  Heaven's  humblest  ways 

Nor  its  least  boon  to  spurn. 

Bay  of  Biscay.  December  io,  1832, 


PRIVATE   JUDGMl  45 


PRIVATE  JUDGMENT. 

Poor  wand'rers,  ye  are  sore  distressed 

To  find  that  path  which  Christ  has  bless'd, 

Track'd  by  His  saintly  thro:. 
Each  claims  to  trust  his  own  weak  will, 
Blind  idol  ! — so  ye  languish  still. 

All  wranglers  and  all  wrong. 

He  saw  of  old.  and  met  your  need, 
Granting  you  prophets  of  His  creed, 

The  throes  of  fear  to  swage  : 
They  fenced  the  rich  bequest  He  made. 
And  sacred  hands  have  safe  convey \\ 

Their  charge  from  age  to  age. 

Wand'rers  !  come  home  !  obey  the  call  ! 
A  Mother  pleads,  who  ne'er  let  fail 

One  grain  of  Holy  Truth  ; 
Warn  you  and  win  she  shall  and  must. 
For  now  she  lifts  her  from  the  dust, 

To  reign  as  in  her  youth. 
Off  Cape  Ortegal.  December  11,  1S32. 


1 


46  THE    WATCHMAN. 

THE  WATCHMAN. 

(A  Song.) 

Faint  not,  and  fret  not,  for  threaten'd  woe, 
Watchman  on  Truth's  grey  height  ! 

Few  though    the  faithful,   and  fierce  though 
the  foe, 
Weakness  is  aye  Heaven  s  might. 

Infidel  Ammon  and  niggard  Tyre, 

Ill-fitted  pair,  unite  : 
Some  work  for  love,  and  some  work  for  hire, 

But  weakness  shall  be  Heaven's  might. 

Eli's  feebleness,  Saul's  black  wrath, 

May  aid  Ahithophel's  spite  ; 
And  prayers  from  Gerizim,  and  curses  from 
Gath 

Our  weakness  shall  prove  Heaven's  might. 

Quail  not,  and  quake  not,  thou  Warder  bold, 

Be  there  no  friend  in  sight  ; 
Turn  thee  to  question  the  days  of  old, 

When  weakness  was  aye  Heaven's  might. 


MEMORY.  4  7 

Moses  was  one,  but  he  stay'd  the  sin 
Of  the  host,  in  the  Presence  bright  ; 

And  Elias  scorn'd  the  Carmel  din, 

When  Baal  would  match   Heaven's  might. 

Time's  years  are  many,  Eternity  one, 

And  one  is  the  Infinite  ; 
The  chosen  are  few,  few  the  deeds  well  done, 

For  scantness  is  still  Heaven's  might. 

At  Sea.  December  12,  18 J2. 


MEMORY. 


My  home  is  now  a  thousand  miles  away  ; 
Yet  in  my  thoughts  its  even'  image  fair 
Rises  as  keen,  as  I  still  linger'd  there. 
And,  turning  me,  could  all  I  loved  survey. 
And  so,  upon  Death's  unaverted  day. 
As  I  speed  upwards.  I  shall  on  me  bear. 
And  in  no  breathless    whirl,  the    things    that 

were, 
And  duties  given,  and  ends  I  did  obey. 


48  THE  HAVEN. 

And,  when  at  length  I   reach  the   Throne  of 

Power, 
Ah  !  still  unscared,  I  shall  in  fulness  see 
The  vision  of  my  past  innumerous  deeds, 
My  deep  heart-courses  and  their  motive  seeds, 
So  to  gaze  on  till  the  red  dooming  hour. 
Lord,  in  that  strait,  the  Judge  !  remember  me  ! 
Off  Cape  Trafalgar.  December  ij,  1832. 


THE  HAVEN. 


Whence  is  this  awe,  by  stillness  spread 

O'er  the  world-fretted  soul  ? 
Wave  reared  on  wave  its  godless  head, 
While  my  keen  bark,  by  breezes  sped, 
Dash'd  fiercely  through  the  ocean  bed, 

And  chafed  toward  its  goal. 

But  now  there  reigns  so  deep  a  rest, 

That  I  could  almost  weep. 
Sinner  !  thou  hast  in  this  rare  guest 
Of  Adam's  peace  a  figure  blest  ; 
'Tis  Eden  seen,  though  not  possess'd, 

Which  cherub-flames  still  keep. 
Gibraltar.  December  /6,  18 32. 


A    WORD  IN  SEASON.  49 


A  WORD  IN  SEASON. 

0  Lord  !  when  sin's  close-marshal  I'd  line 
Assails  Thy  witness  on  his  way. 

How  should  he  raise  Thy  glorious  sign. 
And  how  Thy  will  display  ? 

Thy  holy  Paul,  with  soul  of  flame,  ' 
Rose  on  Mars'  hill,  a  soldier  lone  ; 

Shall  I  thus  speak  th1  Atoning  Name, 
Though  with  a  heart  of  stone  ? 

"Not  so,"  He  said  :  "  hush  thee,  and  seek. 
With  thoughts  in  prayer  and  watchful  eyes. 

My  seasons  sent  for  thee  to  speak, 
And  use  them  as  they  rise. "' 

Gibraltar.  December  iy,  1832. 

4 


j 


50  FAIR    WORDS. 


FAIR  WORDS. 

Thy  words  are  good,  and  freely  given, 
As  though  thou  felt  them  true  ; 

Friend,  think  thee  well,  to  hell  or  heaven 
A  serious  heart  is  due. 

It  pains  thee  sore,  man's  will  should  swerve 

In  his  true  path  divine  ; 
And  yet  thou  ventur'st  nought  to  serve 
Thy  neighbor's  weal  nor  thine. 

Beware  !  such  words  may  once  be  said, 
Where  shame  and  fear  unite  ; 

But,  spoken  twice,  they  mark  instead 
A  sin  against  the  light. 

Gibraltar.  Dece?nber  77,  1832. 


MOSES.  5 1 


MOSES. 

Moses,  the  patriot  fierce,  became 

The  meekest  man  on  earth, 
To  show  us  how  love's  quickening  flame 

Can  give  our  souls  new  birth. 

Moses,  the  man  of  meekest  heart, 

Lost  Canaan  by  self-will, 
To  show,  where  Grace  has  done  its  part, 

How  sin  defiles  us  still. 

Thou,  who  hast  taught  me  in  Thy  fear, 

Yet  seest  me  frail  at  best, 
O  grant  me  loss  with  Moses  here, 

To  gain  his  future  rest  ! 

At  Sea.  December  ig,  1832. 


52  THE  PATIENT  CHURCH. 


THE  PATIENT  CHURCH. 

Bide  thou  thy  time  ! 
Watch  with  meek  eyes  the  race  of  pride   and 

crime, 
Sit  in  the  gate,  and  be  the  heathen's  jest, 

Smiling  and  self-possest 
O  thou  to  whom  is  pledged  a  victor's  sway, 

Bide  thou  the  victor's  day  ! 

Think  on  the  sin  x 
That  reap'd  the  unripe  seed,  and  toil'd  to  win 
Foul  history-marks  at  Bethel  and  at  Dan. 

No  blessing,  but  a  ban  ; 
Whilst  the  wise    Shepherd  2  hid    his    heaven- 
told  fate, 

Nor  reck'd  a  tyrant's  hate. 

Such  loss  is  gain  ; 
Wait  the  bright  Advent  that  shall    loose    Thy 
chain  ! 

1  Jeroboam.  2  David. 


JEREMIAH.  53 

E'en  now  the  shadows  break,  and  gleams  di- 
vine 

ge  the  dim  distant  line. 
When  thrones  are  trembling,  and    earth's    fat 
ones  quail. 

True  Seed  !  thou  shalt  prevail  ! 

Off 'AlgUrt.  December  20^  1832. 


JEREMIAH. 


"  O  that  I  had  in  the  wilderness  a  lodging-place ol 

wayfaring  men  :  that  I  might  leave  my  people,   and 
go  from  them  !  " 

"  Woe's  me  !"  the  peaceful  prophet  cried, 

•  •    Spare  me  this  troubled  life  : 
To  stem  man's  wrath,  to  school  his  pride. 

To  head  the  sacred  strife  ! 

lt  O  place  me  in  some  silent  vale. 

Where  groves  and  flowers  abound  : 
Nor  eyes  that  gnidge,  nor  tongues  that  rail. 

Vex  the  truth-haunted  ground  !  " 


54  PENANCE. 

If  bis  meek  spirit  err'd,  opprest 

That  God  denied  repose, 
What  sin  is  ours,  to  whom  Heaven's  rest 

Is  pledged,  to  heal  earth's  woes  ? 
Off  Galita.  December  22,  1832. 


PENANCE. 


Mortal  !  if  e'er  thy  spirits  faint, 

By  grief  or  pain  opprest, 
Seek  not  vain  hope,  or  sour  complaint, 

To  cheer  or  ease  thy  breast : 

But  view  thy  bitterest  pangs  as  sent 

A  shadow  of  that  doom, 
Which  is  the  soul's  just  punishment 

In  its  own  guilt's  true  home. 

Be  thine  own  judge  ;  hate  thy  proud  heart ; 

And  while  the  sad  drops  flow. 
E'en  let  thy  will  attend  the  smart, 

And  sanctify  thy  woe. 

Off  Pant e liar ia.  Dece??iber  23,  1832. 


THE   COURSE    OF   TRUTH.  55 


THE  COURSE  OF  TRUTH. 

"  Him  God  raised  up  the  third  day,  and  showed 
Him  openly,  not  to  all  the  people,  but  unto  witnesses 
chosen  before  of  God." 

When    royal   Truth,    released    from    mortal 

throes, 
Burst  His  brief  slumber,  and  triumphant  rose, 
111  had  the  Holiest  sued 
A  patron  multitude, 
Or  courted  Tetrarch's  eye.  or  claimed  to  rule 
By  the  world's  winning  grace,  or  proofs  from 
learned  school. 

But,  robing  Him  in  viewless  air,  He  told 
His  secret  to  a  few  of  meanest  mould  : 
They  in  their  turn  imparted 
The  gift  of  men  pure-hearted. 
While  the  brute  many    heard  His  mysteries 

high, 
As  some  strange  fearful  tongue,  and  crouch'd, 
they  knew  not  why. 


50      CHRISTMAS    WITHOUT  CHRIST. 

Still  is  the  might  of  Truth,  as  it  has  been  ; 
Lodged  in  the  few,  obey'd,  and  vet  unseen. 
Rear'd  on  lone  heights,  and  rare, 
His  saints  their  watch-flame  bear, 
And    the    mad    world  sees  the  wide -circling 

blaze. 
Vain  searching  whence  it  streams,  and  how  to 
quench  its  rays. 

December  24,  1832. 


CHRISTMAS  WITHOUT  CHRIST. 

How  can  I  keep  my  Christmas  least 

In  its  due  festive  show. 
Reft  of  the  sight  of  the  High  Priest 

From  whom  its  glories  flow  ? 

I  hear  the  tuneful  bells  around. 

The  blessed  towers  I  see  : 
A  stranger  on  a  foreign  ground. 

They  peal  a  last  for  me. 


SLEEPLESSNESS.  -  57 

O  Britons  I  now  so  brave  and  high, 

How  will  ye  weep  the  day 
When  Christ  in  judgment  passes  by. 

And  calls  the  Bride  away  ! 

Your  Christmas  then  will  lose  its  mirth, 

Your  Easter  lose  its  bloom  : 
Abroad,,  a  scene  of  strife  and  dearth  : 

Within,  a  cheerless  home  ! 

Malta.  December  23,  iSj2. 


SLEEPLESSNESS. 

Uxwearied  God,  before  whose  face 

The  night  is  clear  as  day, 
Whilst  we,  poor  worms,  o'er  life's  scant  race 

Xow  creep,  and  now  delay. 
We  with  death's  foretaste  alternate 
Our  labor's  dint  and  sorrow's  weight, 
Save  in  that  fever-troubled  state 

When  pain  or  care  has  sway. 


5S  ABRAHAM. 

Dread  Lord  !   Thy  glory,  watchful  r 
Is  but  disease  in  man  ; 

- 
In  Thy  eternal  plan  : 
Pride  grasps  the  powers  by  Thee  display'd. 
Yet  ne'er  the  rebel  effort  made 
.11  beneath  the  sudden  shade 
ithering  ban. 

December  26,  1832. 


ABRAHAM. 


The  better  portion  didst  thou  choose.  Great 

Heart. 
Thy  G  .  choice,  and  pledge  of  Gentile 

ice  ! 
Faith's  truest  type,  he  with  unruffled  face 
Bore  the  w<  ]  l's  smile    and  bade  her 

der.  a 
Whether,  a  trader,  with  no  trader's  art, 
He  buys  in  Canaan  his  k  ig-place, — 

Or  freely  yields  rich  Siddim's  ample  space, — 
Or  braves  the  rescue,  and  the  battle's  smart, 


THE    GREEK  FATHERS.  59 

\         orns  the  heathen  gifts  of  those  he  - 
O  happy  is  their  s  >uTs  high  solitude, 

Who  commune  thus  with  God,  and  not  with 

earth  ! 
Amid  the  scoffings  of  the  wealth-enslaved, 
A  ready  prey,  as  though  in  absent  mood 
The}"  calmly  move,  nor  reck  the  unmanner'd 

mirth. 

At  Sea.  December  2j,  1S32. 


THE  GREEK  FATHERS. 

Let  heathen  sing  thy  heathen  praise. 
Fall'n  Greece  !  the  thought  of  holier  days 

In  my  sad  heart  abide  3 
For  sons  of  thine  in  Truth's  first  hour 
Were  tongues  and  weapons  of  His  power. 
Born  of  the  Spirit's  lien'  shower. 

Our  fathers  and  our  guides. 

All  thine  is  Clement's  varied  page  ; 
And  Dionysius,  ruler  sage, 


60  THE    WITNESS. 

In  days  of  doubt  and  pain  ; 
And  Origen  with  eagle  eye  ; 
And  saintly  Basil's  purpose  high 
To  smite  imperial  heresy, 

And  cleanse  the  Altar's  stain. 

From  thee  the  glorious  preacher  came, 
With  soul  of  zeal  and  and  lips  of  flame, 

A  court's  stern  martyr-guest  ; 
And  thine,  O  inexhaustive  race  ! 
Was  Nazianzen's  heaven-taught  grace  ; 
And  royal-hearted  Athanase, 

With  Paul's  own  mantle  blest. 
Off  Zante.  December  28,  1832. 


THE  WITNESS. 

How  shall  a  child  of  God  fulfil 
His  vow  to  cleanse  his  soul  from  ill, 
And  raise  on  high  his  baptism-light, 
Like  Aaron's  seed  in  vestment  white 
And  holy-hearted  Nazarite  ? 


THE    WITNESS.  6 1 

First,  let  him  shun  the  haunts  of  vice, 
Sin-feast,  or  heathen  sacrifice  ; 
Fearing  the  board  of  wealthy  pride, 
Or  heretic,  self-trusting  guide, 
Or  where  the  adulterer's  smiles  preside, 

.  as  he  threads  the  maze  of  men. 
Aye  must  he  lift  his  witness,  when 
A  sin  is  spoke  in  Heaven's  dread  face, 
And  none  at  hand  of  higher  grace 
The  Cross  to  carry  in  his  place. 

But  if  he  hears  and  sits  him  still, 
First,  he  will  lose  his  hate  of  ill  ; 
Next,  fear  of  sinning  ;  after,  hate  ; 
Small  sins  his  heart  then  desecrate ; 
And  last,  despair  persuades  to  great. 

Off  Ithaca.  December  jo,  1832. 


62  THE  DEATH  OF  MOSES, 


THE  DEATH  OF  MOSES. 

My  Father's  hope  !  my  childhood's  dream  ! 

The  promise  from  on  high  ! 
Long  waited  for  !  its  glories  beam 

Now  when  my  death  is  nigh. 

My  death  is  come,  but  not  decay  ; 

Nor  eye  nor  mind  is  dim  ; 
The  keenness  of  youth's  vigorous  day 

Thrills  in  each  nerve  and  limb. 

Blest  scene  !  thrice  welcome  after  toil — 

If  no  deceit  I  view  ; 
O  might  my  lips  but  press  the  soil, 

And  prove  the  vision  true  ! 

Its  glorious  heights,  its  wealthy  plains. 

Its  many-tinted  groves, 
They  call  !  but  He  my  steps  restrains 

Who  chastens  whom  He  loves. 


MELCHIZEDEK.      '  63 

Ah  !  now  they  melt .  .  .  they  arc  but  shades  .  .  . 

I  die  ! — yet  is  no  rest, 
<  I  Lord  !  in  store,  since  Canaan  fades 

But  seen,  and  not  possest? 

Off  It '  December  30,  1832. 


MELCHIZEDEK. 

"  Without  father,  without  mother,  without  de- 
scent ;  having  neither  beginning  of  days,  nor  end  of 
life." 

Thrice  bless'd  are  they,  who  feel  their  loneli- 
ness ; 
To  whom  nor  voice  of  friends    nor   pleasant 

scene 
Brings  aught  on  which  the  sadden'd  heart  can 

lean  ; 
Yea,  the  rich    earth,  garb'd    in    her    daintiest 

dress 
Of  light  and  joy,  doth  but  the  more  oppress. 
Claiming  responsive  smiles  and  rapture  high  : 
Till,  sick  at  heart,  beyond  the  veil  they  fly, 
Seeking  His  Presence,  who  alone  can  bless. 


64  TRANSFIGURATION. 

Such,  in  strange  days,  the  weapons  of  Heaven's 

grace  ; 
When,    passing  o'er  the   high-born    Hebrew 

line, 
He  moulds  the  vessel  of  His  vast  design  ; 
Fatherless,  homeless,  reft  of  age  and  place, 
Sever'd  from  earth,  and  careless  of  its  wreck. 
Born  through  long  woe  His  rare  Melchizedek. 

Corfu  yanuary  5,  1833* 


TRANSFIGURATION. 

"They  glorified  God  in  me." 

I  saw  thee  once  and  nought  discern'd 

For  stranger  to  admire  ; 
A  serious  aspect,  but  it  burn'd 

With  no  unearthly  fire. 

Again  I  saw,  and  I  confess'd 

Thy  speech  was  rare  and  high  ; 

And  yet  it  vex'd  my  burden'd  breast, 
And  scared,  I  knew  not  why. 


BEHIND    THE    VEIL.  65 

m<  »rc,  and  awe-struck  gazed 
(  >n  face,  and  form,  and  air  : 
God's  living  glory  round  thee  blazed — 
int — a  Saint  was  there  ! 

Off  Zante.  January  8,  1833. 


BEHIND  THE  VEIL. 

Banish'd  the  House  of  sacred  rest. 

Amid  a  thoughtless  throng. 
At  length  I  heard  its  creed  confess'd. 

And  knelt  the  saints  among. 

Artless  his  strain  and  unadorn'd, 
Who  spoke  Christ's  message  there  ; 

But  what  at  home  I  might  have  scorn' d, 
N<  w  charm'd  my  famish'd  ear. 

Lord,  grant  me  this  abiding  grace, 

Thy  Word  and  sons  to  know  ; 
To  pierce  the  veil  on  Moses'  face, 

Although  his  speech  be  slow. 

At  Sea.  January  g.  18 33. 

5 


66  JUDGMENT. 


JUDGMENT. 

If  e'er  1  fall  beneath  Th  yrod, 

As  through  life's  snares  I  go, 
Save  me  from  David's  lot,  O  God  ! 

And  choose  Thyself  the  woe. 

How  should  I  face  Thy  plagues  ?  which  scare, 

And  haunt,  and  stun,  until 
The  heart  or  sinks  in  mute  despair, 

Or  names  a  random  ill. 


If  else  .  .  .  then  guide  in  David's  path, 
Who  chose  the  holier  pain  ; 
Satan  and  man  are  tools  of  wrath, 
An  Angel's  scourge  is  gain. 

Off  Malta.  January  10,  1833. 


SENSITIVENESS.  67 


SENSITIVENESS. 

Time  was,  I  shrank  from  what  was  right 
From  fear  of  what  was  wrong  ; 

I  would  not  brave  the  sacred  fight, 
Because  the  foe  was  strong. 

But  now  I  cast  that  finer  sense 

And  sorer  shcime  aside  ; 
Such  dread  of  sin  was  indolence, 

Such  aim  at  Heaven  was  pride. 

So,  when  my  Saviour  calls,  I  rise, 

And  calmly  do  my  best ; 
Leaving  to  Him,  with  silent  eyes 

Of  hope  and  fear,  the  rest. 

I  step,  I  mount  where  He  has  led  ; — 
Men  count  my  haltings  o'er  ; — 

I  know  them  ;  yet,  though  self  I  dread, 
I  love  His  precept  more. 

Lazaret,  Malta.  January  75,  1833. 


i 


68  DAVID  AND   JONATHAN, 


DAVID  AND  JONATHAN. 


"  Thy  love  to  me  was  wonderful,  passing  the  love 
of  women." 


0  heart  of  fire  !  misjudged  by  wilful  man, 

Thou  flower  of  Jesse's  race  ! 
What  woe  was  thine,  when  thou  and  Jona- 
than 

Last  greeted  face  to  face  ! 
He  doom'd  to  die,  thou  on  us  to  impress 
The  portent  of  a  blood-stained  holiness. 

Yet  it  was  well  : — for  so,  'mid  cares  of  rule 

And  crime's  encircling  tide, 
A  spell  was  o'er  thee,  zealous  one,  to  cool 

Earth-joy  and  kingly  pride  ; 
With    battle-scene  and    pageant,    prompt   to 

blend 
The  pale  calm  spectre  of  a  blameless  friend. 


IILMILIA  TION.  09 

Ah  !  had  he  lived,  before  thy  throne  to  stand, 

Thy  spirit  keen  and  high 
Sure  it  had  snapped  in  twain  love's  slender 
band. 
So  dear  in  memory  ; 
Paul,  of  his  comrade  reft,  the  warning  gives, — 
He  lives  to  us  who  dies,  he  is  but  lost  who 
lives. 

Lazaret,  Malta,  yanuary  76,  18 }J,J. 


HUMILIATION. 

I  have  been  honor'd  and  obey'd, 
I  have  met  scorn  and  slight  ; 

And  my  heart  loves  earth's  sober  shade, 
More  than  her  laughing  light. 

For  what  is  rule  but  a  sad  weight 

Of  duty  and  a  snare  ? 
What  meanness,  but  with  happier  fate 

The  Saviour's  Cross  to  share  ? 


70  THE    CALL    OF  DAVID. 

This  my  hid  choice,  if  not  from  heaven, 

Moves  on  the  heavenward  line  ; 
Cleanse  it,  good  Lord,  from  earthly  leaven, 
And  make  it  simply  Thine. 
Lazaret,  Malta.  yannary  76,  1833- 


THE  CALL  OF  DAVID. 

"  And  the  Lord  said,  Arise,  anoint  him,  for  this 
is  he." 

Latest  born  of  Jesse's  race, 
Wonder  lights  thy  bashful  face, 
While  the  Prophet's  gifted  oil 
Seals  thee  for  a  path  of  toil. 
We,  thy  Angels,  circling  round  thee, 
Ne'er  shall  find  thee  as  we  found  thee, 
When  thy  faith  first  brought  us  near 
In  thy  lion-fight  severe. 

Go  !  and  mid  thy  flocks  awhile 
At  thy  doom  of  greatness  smile  ; 
Bold  to  bear  God's  heaviest  load, 
Dimly  guessing  of  the  road, — 
Rocky  road,  and  scarce  ascended, 
Though  thy  foot  be  angel-tended. 


THE   CALL    OF  DAVID.  J  I 

Twofold  praise  thou  shalt  attain, 
In  royal  court  and  battle  plain  ; 
Then  comes  heart-ache,  care,  distress, 
Blighted  hope,  and  loneliness  : 

Wounds  from  friend  and  gifts  from  ioe, 
Dizzied  faith,  and  guilt,  and  v. 
Loftiest  aims  by  earth  defiled. 
Gleams  of  wisdom,  sin-beguiled, 
Sated  power's  tyrannic  mood, 
Counsels  shared  with  men  of  blood. 
Sad  success,  parental  tears. 
And  a  dreary  nft  of  years. 


Strange,  that  guileless  lace  and  form 
To  lavish  on  the  scarring  storm  ! 
Yet  we  take  thee  in  thy  blindness. 
And  we  bullet  thee  in  kindness  : 
Little  chary  of  thy  lame, — 
Dust  unborn  may  bless  or  blame, — 
But  we  mould  thee  for  the  root 
Of  man's  promised  healing  Fruit, 
And  we  mould  thee  hence  to  rise. 
As  our  brother,  to  the  skies. 

Lazaret^  Malta.  yanuary  iS,  1S33. 


, 


72  A   BLIGHT. 


A  BLIGHT. 

What  time  my  heart  unfolded  its  fresh  leaves 
In    springtime    gay,    and     scattered      flowers 

around, 
A  whisper  warn'd  of  earth's  unhealthy  ground, 
And  all  that  there  love's    light   and    pureness 

grieves  ; 

Sun's  ray  and  canker-worm, 
And  sudden-whelming  storm  ; — 
But,  ah  !  my  self-will  smiled,  nor  reck'd  the 

gracious  sound. 

So  now  defilement  dims  life's  memory-spring  ; 
I  cannot  hear  an  early-cherish'd  strain, 
But  first  a  joy,  and  then  it  brings  a  pain — 
Fear,  and  self-hate,  and  vain  remorseful  stings  : 
Tears  lull  my  grief  to  rest, 
Not  without  hope,  this  breast 
May  one  day  lose    its    load,    and   youth    yet 

bloom  again. 
Lazaret,  Malta.  January  ig,  1833. 


JOSEPH.  73 


JOSEPH. 

0  purest  Symbol  of  the  Eternal  Son  ! 
Who  dwelt  in  thee  as  in  some  sacred  shrine. 
To  draw  hearts  after     thee,  and  make    them 

thine  ; 
Not  parent  only  by  that  light  was  won. 
And  brethren  crouch'd  who  had  in    wrath    be- 
gun, 
But  heathen  pomp  abased  her  at  the  sign 
And  the  hid  Presence  of  a  guest  divine, 
Till  a  king   heard,    and  all   thou   bads't  was 

done. 
Then  was  fulfilFd  Nature's  dim  augury, 
That  "  Wisdom,  clad   in  visible  form,  would 

be 
So  fair,  that  all  must  love  and  bow  the  knee  ;  " 
Lest  it  might  seem,  what  time  the    Substance 

came, 
Truth  lack'd  a  sceptre,  when  It  but  laid  by 
Its  beaming  front,  and  bore  a  willing  shame. 

Lazaret,  Malta.  January  20,  1833. 


74  SUPERSTITION. 


SUPERSTITION. 

O  Lord  and  Christ,  Thy  children  of  the  South 

So  shudder,  when  they  see 
The  two-edged  sword  sharp-issuing  from  Thy 

mouth, 

As  to  fall  back  from  Thee, 
And  cling  to  charms  of  man,  or  heathen  rite 
To  aid  them  against   Thee,  Thou    Fount    of 

love  and  light ! 

But  I  before  Thine  awful  eyes  will  go 

And  firmly  fix  me  there, 
In  my  full  shame  ;    not   bent   my   doom   to 
know, 

Not  fainting  with  despair  ; 
Not  fearing  less  than  they,  but  deeming  sure, 
If  e'en  Thy  Name  shall  fail,  nought  my  base 

heart  can  cure. 
Lazaret \  Malta.  January  21,  /Sjj. 


ISAAC.  75 


ISAAC. 

Many  the  guileless  years  the  Patriarch  spent. 
Bless'd  in  the  wife  a  father's  foresight  chose  ; 
Many  the  prayers  and  gracious    deeds,  which 

rose 
Daily  thank-offerings  from  his  pilgrim  tent. 
Yet  these,  though  written  in  the  heavens,  are 

rent 
From  out    truth's    lower    roll,    which  sternly 

shows 
But  one  sad  trespass  at  his  history's  close. 
Father's,  son's,  mother's,  and  its  punishment. 
Not  in  their  brightness,  but  their  earthly  stains 
Are  the  true  seed  vouchsafed  to  earthly  eyes. 
Sin  can  read  sin,  but  dimly  scans  high  grace. 
So  we  move  heavenward  with  averted  face, 
Scared  into  faith  by  warning  of  sin's  pains  : 
And  Saints  are  lower'd,  that  the  world  may  rise. 

Valletta.  January  23,  f£jj- 


76  REVERSES. 


REVERSES. 

When  mirth  is  full  and  free, 
Some  sudden  gloom  shall  be  ; 
When  haughty  power  mounts  high, 
The  Watcher's  axe  is  nigh. 
All  growth  has  bound  ;  when  greatest  found, 
It  hastes  to  die. 

When  the  rich  town,  that  long 
Has  lain  its  huts  among, 
Uprears  its  pageants  vast, 
And  vaunts — it  shall  not  last  ! 
Bright  tints  that  shine,  are  but  a  sign 
Of  summer  past. 

And  when  thine  eye  surveys, 
With  fond  adoring  gaze, 
And  yearning  heart,  thy  friend — 
Love  to  its  grave  doth  tend. 
All  gifts  below,  save  Truth,  but  grow 
Towards  an  end. 

January  30,  1833. 


HOPE.  77 


HOPE. 

We  are  not  children  of  a  guilty  sire, 

Since  Xoe  stepped    from   out   his   wave-tossed 

home, 
And    a   stern   baptism   flush'' d     earth's    faded 

bloom. 
Not  that  the  heavens  then  clear \\,  or  cherub's 

fire 
From  Eden's  portal  did  at  once  retire  : 
But  thoughts  were  stirred  of  Him  who  was   to 

come, 
Whose  rainbow  hues  so  streak'd  the  o'ershad- 

owing  gloom, 
That  faith  could  e'en  that  desolate   scene    ad- 
mire. 
The  Lord  has  come  and  gone  ;  and  now   we 

wait 
The  second  substance  of  the  deluge  type, 


7§  ST.    PAUL   AT  MELITA. 

When  our  slight    ark    shall    cross    a    molten 

surge  ; 
So,  while  the  gross  earth  melts,  for  judgment 

ripe, 
Xe'er  with  its  haughty  turrets  to  emerge, 
We  shall  mount  up  to  Eden's  long-lost  .gate. 

Valletta.  February  5,  ^^JJ. 


ST.    PAUL  AT  MELITA, 

"  And  when  Paul  had  gathered  a  bundle  of  sticks, 
and  laid  them  on  the  fire,  there  came  a  viper  out  of 
the  heat." 

Secure  in  his  prophetic  strength, 

The  water  peril  o'er, 
The  many-gifted  man  at  length 

Stepp'd  on  the  promised  shore. 

He  trod  the  shore  ;  but  not  to  rest, 

Nor  wait  till  Angels  came  ; 
Lo  !  humblest  pains  the  Saint  attest, 

The  firebrands  and  the  flame. 


WARNINGS.  79 

But,  when  he  felt  the  viper's  smart, 

Then  instant  aid  was  given  : 
Christian  !  hence  learn  to  do  thy  part, 

And  leave  the  rest  to  Heaven. 

Messina.  February  8,  iSjj, 


WARNINGS. 


When  Heaven  sends  sorrow, 
Warnings  go  first. 
Lest  it  should  burst 
With  stunning  might 
On  souls  too  bright 

To  fear  the  morrow. 

Can  science  bear  us 

To  the  hid  springs 
Of  human  things  ? 
Why  may  not  dream, 
Or  thought's  day-gleam, 
heer  us  ? 


80  DREAMS. 

Are  such  thoughts  fetters, 

While  Faith  disowns 
Dread  of  earth's  tones, 
Recks  but  Heaven's  call, 
And  on  the  wall 

Reads  but  Heaven's  letters  ? 

Betiveeii  Calatafimi  and  Palermo. 

February  12,  1833. 


DREAMS. 


Oh  !  miserable  power 
To  dreams  allow'd,  to  raise  the  guilty  past, 
And  back  awhile  the  illumined  spirit  to  cast 

On  its  youth's  twilight  hour  : 
In  mocken*  guiling  it  to  act  again 
The  revel  or  the  scoff  in  Satan's  frantic  train  ! 

Nay,  hush  thee,  angry  heart  ! 
An  Angel's  grief  ill  fits  a  penitent  ; 
Welcome  the  thorn — it  is  divinely  sent, 

And  with  its  wholesome  smart 


TEMPTATION.  8 1 

Shall  pierce  thee  in  thy  virtue's  palmy  home, 
And  warn  thee  what  thou  art,    and  whence 

thy  wealth  has  come. 
r^ stum.  February  26,  iSjj. 


TEMPTATION. 

O  holy  Lord,   who  with  the  Children  Three 

Didst  walk  the  piercing  flame, 
Help,    in  those  trial-hours,   which,    save    to 
Thee, 

I  dare  not  name  ; 
Nor  let  these  quivering  eyes  and    sickening 

heart 
Crumble  to  dust  beneath  the  Tempter's  dart. 

Thou,  who  didst  once  Thy  life  from   Mary's 
breast 

Renew  from  day  to  day, 
Oh,  might  Thy  smile,  severely  sweet,  but  rest 

On  this  frail  clay  ! 
Till  I  am  Thine  with  my  whole  soul  ;  and  fear, 
Not  feel  a  secret  joy,  that  Hell  is  near. 
Frascaii.  March  28 \  1833. 


$2  OUR  FUTURE. 


OUR  FUTURE. 

"  What    I    do,   thou    knowest  not  now  ;  but   thou 
shalt  know  hereafter." 

Did  we  but  see, 
When  life  first  open'd,  how  our  journey  lay 
Between  its  earliest  and  its  closing  day, 

Or  view  ourselves,  as  we  one  time  shall  be, 
Who    strive    for    the    high    prize,    such  sight 

would  break 
The  youthful  spirit,    though    bold  for  Jesu's 
sake. 

But  Thou,  dear  Lord  ! 
Whilst  I  traced  out  bright  scenes  which  were 

to  come, 
Isaac's  pure  blessings,  and  a  verdant  home. 
Didst  spare  me,  and  withhold  Thy  fearful 
word  : 
Wiling  me  year  by  year,  till  I  am  found 
A  pilgrim  pale,  with  Paul's  sad  girdle  bound. 

Tre  Fontane.  April  2 ,  iSjj. 


HEATHENISM.  .  83 


HEATHENISM. 

''Mid  Balak's  magic  fires 
The  Spirit  spake,  clear  as  in  Israel  ; 
With  prayers  untrue  and  covetous  desires 

Did  God  vouchsafe  to  dwell  : 
Who  summon'd  dreams,  His  earlier  word  to 

bril 
To  patient  Job's  vex'd  friends,   and    Gerar's 
guileless  king. 

If  such  o'erflowing  grace 
From  Aaron's  vest  e'en  on  the  Sibyl  ran, 
Why  should  we  fear,  the  Son  now  lacks  His 
place 
Where  roams  unchristen'd  man  ? 
As  though,  where  faith   is  keen,  He  cannot 

make 
Bread  of  the  very  stones,  or  thirst  with  ashes 
slake. 

Messina.  April  21,  /Sjj. 


84  TAORMIXL 


TAORMINL 

"And  Jacob   went  on  his  way,  and  the  Angels  of 
God  met  him." 

Say,  hast  thou  track'd  a  traveller's  round. 

Xor  visions  met  thee  there, 
Thou  couldst  but  man-el  to  have  found 

This  blighted  world  so  fair  ? 

And  feel  an  awe  within  thee  rise, 

That  sinful  man  should  see 
Glories  far  worthier  Seraph's  eves 

Than  to  be  shared  by  thee  ? 

Store  them  in  heart  !  thou  shalt  not  faint 

'Mid  coming  pains  and  fears, 
As  the  third  heaven  once  nerved  a  Saint 

For  fourteen  trial-years. 

Magnisi.  April  26,  18 33. 


SYMPATHY. 


SYMPATHY. 

Souls  of  the  Just,  I  call  not  you 
To  share  this  joy  with  me, 

This  joy  and  wonder  at  the  view 
Of  mountain,  plain,  and  sea; 

Ye.  on  that  loftier  mountain  old, 
Safe  lodged  in  Eden's  cell, 

Whence  run  the  rivers  four,  behold 
This  earth,  as  ere  it  fell. 

Or,  when  ye  think  of  those  who  stay 
Still  tried  by  the  world's  fight, 

'Tis  but  in  looking  for  the  day 
Which  shall  the  lost  unite. 

Ye  rather,  elder  Spirits  strong  ! 

Who  from  the  first  have  trod 
This  nether  scene,  man's  race  among 

The  while  you  live  to  God, 


86  RELICS   OF  SAINTS, 

Ye  see,  and  ye  can  sympathize — 
Vain  thought  !  their  mighty  ken 

Fills  height  and  depth,  the  stars,  the  skies, 
They  smile  at  dim-eyed  men. 

Ah,  Saviour  !  I  perforce  am  thine, 

Angel  and  Saint  apart  : 
Those  searching  Eyes  are  all-divine 

All-human  is  that  Heart. 

Agosta .  April  29,  1 833. 


RELICS  OF  SAINTS. 

"  He  is  not  the   God  of  the  dead,  but  of  the  living  ; 
for  all  live  unto  Him." 

"The  Fathers  are  in  dus%  yet  live  to  God  :  " 
So  says  the  Truth  :  as  if  the  motionless  clay 
Still  held  the  seeds  of  life  beneath  the  sod, 
Smouldering  and  struggling  till  the  judgment- 
dav. 


DA  Y-LA BORERS,  67 

And  hence  we  learn  with   r  1  esteem 

Of  these  frail  houses,  though  the  gra 

fine 
;iist  may  urge  his  cunni: 
That  they  are  earth  ; — but  they  are  heave 

shrines. 

Palenno. 


DAY-LABORERS. 

M  And  he  said.  It  is  finished.'1 

One  only,  of  God's  messengers  to  man. 
Finish'd  the  work  of  grace,  which  He  began  : 
E'en  Moses  wearied  upon  Xebo's  height. 

Though  loth  to  leave  the  fight 
With  the  doom'd  foe,  and  yield  the  sun-bri 
land 

To  Joshua's  armed  hand. 

And  David  wrought  in  turn  a  strenuous  part, 
Zeal  for  God's  house  consuming  him  in  heart ; 


88  WARFARE. 

And  yet  he  might  not  build,  but  only  bring 

Gifts  for  the  Heavenly  King  ; 
And  these  another  rear'd,  his  peaceful  son, 

Till  the  full  work  was  done. 

List,    Christian  warrior  !   thou,  whose  soul  is 

fain 
To  rid  thy  Mother  of  her  present  chain  ; — 
Christ  will  avenge  His  Bride  ;  yea,  even  now 

Begins  the  work,  and  thou 
Shalt  spend  in  it  thy  strength,  but,   ere  He 
save, 
Thy  lot  shall  be  the  grave. 
Palermo.  June  2,  1833. 


WARFARE. 

'*  Freely  ye  have  received  ;  freely  give." 

' '  Give  any  boon  for  peace  ! 
Why  should  our  fair-eyed  Mother  e'er  engage 
In  the  world's  course  and  on  a  troubled  stage, 
From  which  her  very  call  is  a  release  ? 

No  !  in  thy  garden  stand, 

And  tend  with  pious  hand 


WARFARE.  89 

The  flowers  tnou  piantest  there, 

Which  are  thy  proper  care, 
O  man  of  God  !  in  meekness  and  in  love, 
And  waiting  for  the  blissful  realms  above.'* 


Alas  !  for  thou  must  learn. 
Thou  guileless  one  !  rough  is  the  holy  hand  : 
Runs  not  the  Word  of  Truth  through  even- 
land, 
A  sword  to  sever,  and  a  fire  to  burn  ? 

If  blessed  Paul  had  stav'd 

In  cot  or  learned  shade, 

With  the  priest's  white  attire, 

And  the  Saints'  tuneful  choir, 
Men  had  not  gnash'd  their  teeth,  nor  risen  to 

slay, 
But  thou  hadst  been  a  heathen  in  thy  day. 

Palermo.  J 'ime  j,  1833. 


go  SACRILEGE. 


SACRILEGE. 

The  Church  shone  brightly  in  her  youthful 
Jays. 

Ere  the  world  on  her  smiled  : 
So  now,  an  outcast,  she  would  pour  her  rays 

Keen,  free,  and  undented  : 
Yet  would  I  not  that  arm  of  force  were  mine, 
Which  thrusts    her  from    her   awful    ancient 
shrine, 

Twas  duty  bound  each  convert-king  to  rear 

His  Mother  from  the  dust, 
And  pious  was  it  to  enrich,  nor  fear 

Christ  for  the  rest  to  trust  ; 
And  who  shall  dare  make  common  or  unclean 
What  once  has  on  the  Holy  Altar  been  ? 

Dear  brothers  ! — hence,  while  ye  for  ill  pre- 
pare, 

Triumph  is  still  your  own  ; 
Blest    is    a    pilgrim  Church  ! — yet  shrink    to 
share 

The  curse  of  throwing  down. 


LIBERALISM.  9 1 

So  will  we  toil  in  our  old  place  to  stand, 
Watching,  not  dreading,  the  despoiler's  hand. 

Palermo.  Ju>u  4,  s^SS- 


LIBERALISM. 

"Jehu  destroyed  Baal  out  of  Israel.  Howbeit 
from  the  sins  of  Jeroboam  Jehu  departed  not  from 
after  them,  to  wit,  the  golden  calves  that  were  in 
Bethel,  and  that  were  in  Dan." 

Ye  cannot  halve  the  Gospel  of  God's  grace  ; 
Men  of  presumptuous  heart  !    I    know  you 

well. 
Ye  are    of  those  who  plan  that   we    should 

dwell, 
Each  in  his  tranquil  home  and  holy  place  ; 
Seeing  the  Word  refines  all  natures  rude, 
And  tames  the  stirrings  of  the  multitude. 

And  ye  have  caught  some  echoei  of  its  lore, 
As  heralded  amid  the  joyous  choirs  ; 


92  DECLENSION. 

Ye  mark'd  it  spoke  of  peace,  chastised  desires, 
Good-will    and    mercy, — and    ye    heaid    no 

more  ; 
But,  as  for  zeal  and  quick- eyed  sanctity, 
And  the  dread  depths  of  grace,  ye  pass'd  them 

by. 

And  so  ye  have  the  Truth  ;  for  ye  in  heart, 

At  best,  are  doubters  whether  it  be  true, 

The  theme  discarding,  as  unmeet  for  you, 

Statesmen    or  Sages.      O  new-compass'd  art 

Of  the  ancient  Foe  ! — but  what,  if  it  extends 

O'er    our    own    camp,   and    rules  amid    our 

friends  ? 

Palermo.  June  5,  1833. 


DECLENSION. 


When  I  am  sad,  I  say, 

'•  What  boots  it  me  to  strive, 
And  vex  my  spirit  day  by  day, 

Dead  memories  to  revive  ? 


DECLENSION.  93 

"  Alas !  what  good  will  come; 

Though  we  our  prayer  obtain. 
To  bring  old  times  triumphant  home, 

And  wandering  flocks  regain  ? 

"  Would  not  our  historv  run 

In  the  same  weary  round. 
And  service  in  meek  faith  begun, 

At  length  in  forms  be  bound  ? 

"  Union  would  give  us  strength — 
That  strength  the  earth  subdue  : 

And  then  comes  wealth,  and  pride  at  length, 
And  sloth,  and  prayers  untrue." 

Nay,  this  is  worldly-wise  ; 

To  reason  is  a  crime, 
Since  the  Lord  bade  His  Church  arise. 
In  the  dark  ancient  time. 

He  wills  that  she  should  shine  ; 

So  we  her  flame  must  trim 
Around  His  soul-converting  Sign, 
And  leave  the  rest  to  Him. 
Palermo.  Ju*e  6,  iSjj. 


94  THE   AGE    TO   COME. 


THE  AGE  TO  COME. 

When  I  would  search  the  truths  that  in  me 
burn, 

And  mould  them  into  rule  and  argument, 

A  hundred  reasoners  cried,  — "  Hast  thou  to 
learn 

Those  dreams  are  scatter'd  now,  those  fires 
are  spent  ?" 

And,  did  I  mount  to  simpler  thoughts,  and 
try 

Some  theme  of  peace,  'twas  still  the  same  re- 
ply. 

Perplex'd,  I  hoped  my  heart  was  pure  of  guile, 
But  judged  me  weak  in  wit,  to  disagree  ; 
But  now  I  see  that  men  are  mad  awhile, 
And   joy  the  Age  to  come  will  think    with 

me  :  — 
?Tis  the  old  history — Truth  without  a  home, 
Despised    and    slain,    then   rising   from    the 

tomb. 
Palermo.  June  9,  1833. 


EXTERNAL  RELIGION.  95 


EXTERNAL  RELIGION. 

Whex  first  earth's  rulers  welcomed  home 
The  Church,  their  zeal  impress'd 

Upon  the  seasons,  as  they  come, 
The  image  of  their  guest. 

Men's  words  and  works,  their  hopes  and  fears, 

Henceforth  forbid  to  love, 
Paused,  when  a  Martyr  claim'd  her  tears, 

Or  Saint  inspired  her  love. 

But  craving  wealth,  and  feverish  power, 

Such  service  now  discard  ; 
The  loss  of  one  excited  hour 

A.  sacrifice  too  hard  ! 

And  e'en  about  the  holiest  day, 

God's  own  in  every  time, 
They  doubt  and  search,  lest  aught  should  stay 

A  cataract  of  crime. 


96         ST.    GREGORY  XAZIAXZEX. 

Where  shall  this  cease  ?  must  crosiers  fall, 

Shrines  suffer  touch  profane. 
Till,  cast  without  His  vineyard  wall, 

The  Heaven-sent  Heir  is  slain  ? 

Palermo.  June  u,  iSjj. 


ST.   GREGORY  XAZIAXZEX. 

Peace-loving  man,  of  humble  heart  and  true  ! 
What  dost  thou  here  ? 

Fierce  is  the  city's  crowd  :  the  lordly  few- 
Are  dull  of  ear  ! 

Sore  pain  it  was  to  thee, — till  thou  didst  quit 

Thy  patriarch-throne  at  length,  as  though  for 
power  unfit. 

So  works  the  All-wise  !  our  services  dividing 
Not  as  we  ask  : 

For  the  world's  profit,  by  our  gifts  deciding 

Our  duty-task. 
See  in  king's  courts  loth  Jeremias  plead  ; 
And  slow-tongued  Moses  rule  by  eloquence 
of  deed  ! 


ST.    GREGORY  NAZIAXZEX.  97 

Yes  !    thou,    bright  Angel  of  the  East !    didst 
rear 

The  Cross  divine, 
Borne  high    upon   thy  liquid  accents,  where 

Men  mock'd  the  Sign  ; 
Till  that  cold  city  heard  thy  battle-cry, 
And  hearts  were  stirr'd,  and  deem'd  a  Pente- 
cost was  nigh. 

Thou  couldst  a  people  raise,  but  couldst  not 

rule  : — 

So,  gentle  one. 
Heaven  set  thee  free, — for,  ere  thy  years  were 
full, 

Thy  work  was  done  : 
According  thee  the  lot  thou  lovedst  best, 
To  muse  upon  the  past,  — to  serve,  yet  be  at 
rest. 

Palermo.  jfune  1 2,  1833. 

7 


98  REVERENCE. 


REVERENCE. 

I  bow  at  Jesu's  name,  for  'tis  the  Sign 
Of  awful  mercy  towards  a  guilty  line. 
Of  shameful  ancestry,  in  birth  denied, 

And  upwards  from  a  child 
Full  of  unlovely  thoughts  and  rebel  aims 

And  scorn  of  judgment-flames, 
How  without  fear  can  I  behold  my  Life, 
The  Just  assailing  sin,    and  death-stain'd  in 
the  strife  ? 

And  so,  albeit  His  woe  is  our  release. 
Thought    of  that  woe  aye  dims  our  earthly- 
peace  ; 
The  Life  is  hidden  in  a  Fount  of  Blood  ! 

And  this  is  tidings  good 
For  souls,  who,  pierced  that  they  have  caused 
that  woe, 

Are  fain  to  share  it  too  : 
But  for  the  many,  clinging  to  their  lot 
Ofwordly  ease  ani  sloth,  'tis  written.  "  Touch 
.Me  not." 

Off  Monte  Pellegrino.  June  14.  1833. 


THE  PILLAR  OF  THE  CLOUD. 


Lead,    Kindly    Light,    amid    the    encircling 
gloom. 

Lead  Thou  me  on  ! 
The  night  is  dark,  and  I  am  far  from  home — 

Lead  Thou  me  on  ! 
Keep  Thou  my  feet  ;  1  do  not  ask  to  see 
The  distant  scene. — one  step  enough  for  me. 

99 


IOO  SAMARIA. 

I  was  not  ever  thus,  nor  pray  d  that  Thou 
Shouldst  lead  me  on  ; 

I  loved  to  choose  and  see  my  path,  but  now- 
Lead  Thou  me  on  ! 

I  loved  the  garish  day,  and,  spite  of  fears, 

Pride  ruled  my  will :  remember  not  past  years. 

So  long  Thy  power  hath  blest  me,  sure  it  still 

Will  lead  me  on, 
O'er  moor  and  fen,  o'er  crag  and  torrent,  till 

The  night  is  gone  ; 
And  with  the  morn  those  angel  faces  smile 
Which    I    have   loved    long   since,   and    lost 

awhile. 
At  Sea.  June  16,  iSjj. 


SAMARIA. 


O  rail  not  at  our  kindred  in  the  North, 
Albeit  Samaria  finds  her  likeness  there  ; 
A  self-formed  Priesthood,  and  the  Church  cast 
forth 
To  the  chill  mountain  air. 


JONAH.  lOl 

What,    though  their  lathers  sinned,   and 
the  grace 

Winch  seals  the  Holy  Apostolic  Line? 
Christ's  love  overflows    the  bounds  His  Pro- 
phets trace 
In  His  reveal "d  design. 

Israel  had  Seers  ;  to  them  the  Word  is  nigh  ; 
Shall  not  that  Word  run  forth,  and  gladness 

give 
To  many  a  Shunammite,  till  in  His  eye 
The  full  Seven-thousand  live? 

Off  Sardinia.  Jume  17.  r8jj. 


JONAH. 


"  But  Jonah  rose  op  to  flee  unto  Taishish,  lrom  the 
presence  of  the  Lord." 

Deep  in  his  meditative  bower, 

The  tranquil  seer  reclined  ; 
Numbering  the  creepers  of  an  hour, 

The  gourds  which  o'er  him  twined. 


IC2  JONAH. 

To  note  each  plant,  to  rear  each  fruit 
Which  soothes  the  languid  sense, 

He  deem'd  a  safe,  refined  pursuit, — 
His  Lord,  an  indolence. 

The  sudden  voice  was  heard  at  length, 

' '  Lift  thou  the  prophet's  rod  !'" 
But  sloth  had  sapp'd  the  prophet's  strength, 

He  fear'd,  and  fled  from  God. 

Next,  by  a  fearful  judgment  tamed, 

He  threats  the  offending  race  ; 
God    spares  ; — he  murmurs,   pride-inflamed, 

His  threat  made  void  by  grace. 

What  ? — pride  and  sloth  !  man's  worst  of  foes  ! 

And  can  such  guests  invade 
Our  choicest  bliss,  the  green  repose 

Of  the  sweet  garden-shade  ? 

Off  Sardinia.  June  i£,  1833. 


FAITH  AG  A IX  ST  SIGHT.  103 


FAITH  AGAINST  SIGHT. 

u  As   it  was  in  the  days  cf  Lot,  so  shall  it  be  also  in 
the  day  of  the  Son  of  Man.*' 

The  world  has  cycles  in  its  course,  when  all 
That  once  has  been,  is  acted  o'er  again  :  — 
Not  by  some  fated  law,  which  need  appal 
Our  faith,  or  binds  our  deeds  as  with  a  chain  ; 
But  by  men's  separate  sins,  which  blended  still 
The  same  bad  round  fulfil. 

Then  fear  ye  not,  though  Gallio's  scorn  ye  see, 
And    soft-clad    nobles  count  you    mad,   true 

hearts  ! 
These  are  the  fig-tree's  signs  ; — rough   deeds 

must  be, 
Trials  and  crimes  :  so  learn  ye  well  your  parts. 
Once  more  to  plough  the  earth  it  is  decreed, 
And  scatter  wide  the  seed. 

Off  Sardinia.  Juhj  iS,   tSjj. 


IC4  DESOLATION. 


DESOLATION. 

O,  say  not  thou  art  left  of  God, 

Because  His  tokens  in  the  sky 
Thou  canst  not  read  :  this  earth  He  trod 

To  teach  thee  He  was  ever  nigh. 

He  sees,  beneath  the  fig-tree  green, 

Nathaniel  con  His  sacred  lore  ; 
Shouldst  thou  thy  chamber  seek,  unseen, 

He  enters  through  the  unopened  dooi\ 

And  when  thou  liest,  by  dumber  bound, 
Outwearied  in  the  Christian  fight, 

In  glory,  girt  with  Saints  around, 

He  stands  above  thee  through  the  night. 

When  friends  to  Emmaus  bend  their  course, 
He  joins,  although  He  holds  their  eyes  : 

Or,  shouldst  thou  feel  some  fever's  force, 
He  takes  thy  hand,  He  bids  thee  rise. 


ZEAL    AND   PATIENCE.  105 

Or  on  a  voyage,  when  calms  prevail, 

And  prison  thee  upon  the  sea, 
He  walks  the  wave,  He  wings  the  sail, 

The  shore  is  gained,  and  thou  art  free. 

Off  Sardinia.  June  18 ,  1833. 


ZEAL  AXD  PATIENCE. 
M  I,  Paul,  the  prisoner  of  the  Lord." 

O  comrade  bold  of  toil  and  pain  ! 

Thy  trial  how  severe, 
When  sever'd  first  by  prisoner's  chain 

From  thy  loved  labor-sphere  ! 

Say,  did  impatience  first  impel 
The  heaven-sent  bond  to  break? 
Or,  couldst  thou  bear  its  hindrance  well, 
Loitering  for  Jesu's  sake? 


1 


Io6  THE  RELIGION  OF  CALX. 

Oh,  might  we  know  !  for  sore  we  feel 

The  languor  of  delay, 
When  sickness  lets  our  fainter  zeal, 

Or  foes  block  up  our  way. 

Lord  !  who  Thy  thousand  years  dost  wait 

To  work  the  thousandth  part 
Of  Thy  vast  plan,  for  us  create 

With  zeal  a  patient  heart. 

Off  Sardinia.  Junt  z<p,  1833. 


THE  RELIGION  OF  CAIN. 

"  Am  I  my  brother's  keeper?  " 

The  time  has  been,  it  seem'd  a  precept  plain 
Of  the  true  faith,  Christ's  tokens  to  display  ; 
And  in  life's  commerce  still  the  thought  retain, 
That  men  have  souls,  .and  wait  a  judgment- 
day  ; 
Kings  used  their  gifts  as  ministers  of  heaven. 
Nor  stripped  their  zeal  for  God  of  means 
which  God  had  given. 


THE   RELIGION   OF  C.-l/X.  1 07 

'Tis  alter' d  now  ; — for  Adam's  eldest  born 
Has  train'd  our  practice  in  a  selfish  rule, 
Each  stands  alone,    Christ's   hoods    asunder 

torn  ; 
Each    has    his    private    thought,    selects    his 

school, 
Conceals  his  creed,  and  lives  in  closest  tie 
Of  fellowship  with  those  who  count  it  blasphe- 
my. 

Brothers  !  spare  reasoning  ; — men  have  set- 
tled long 

That  ye  are  out  of  date,  and  they  are  wise  ; 

Use  their  own  weapons  ;  let  your  words  be 
strong, 

Your  cry  be  loud,  till  each  scared  boaster  flies; 

Thus  the  Apostles  tamed  the  pagan  breast, 

They  argued  not.  but  preach'd  ;  and  con- 
science did  the  rest. 

Off  Sardinia.  June  19,  1833. 


108  ST.    PAUL. 


ST.   PAUL. 


I  dream'd  that,  with  a  passionate  complaint, 
I  wish'd  me  born  amid  God's  deeds  of  might  ; 
And  envied  those  who  had  the  presence  bright 
Of  gifted  Prophet  and  strong-hearted  Saint, 
Whom  my  heart  loves,  and   Fancy   strives  to 

paint. 
I    turn'd.    when  straight  a   stranger  met  my 

sight, 
Came  as  my  guest,  and  did  awhile  unite 
His  lot  with  mine,  and  lived  without  restraint. 
Courteous  he  was,    and  grave, — so  meek  in 

mien, 
It  seem'd  untrue,  or  told  a  purpose  weak  ; 
Yet,    in  the  mood,    he    could    with  aptness 

speak. 
Or  with  stern  force,  or  show  of  feelings  keen, 
Marking    deep    craft,    methought,  or  hidden 

pride  :  — 
Then   came  a  voice,  —  "St.     Paul  is  at   thy 

side." 

Off  Sardinia.  June  20^    1833. 


FLOWERS    WITHOUT  FRUIT.        IOQ 


FLOWERS  WITHOUT  FRUIT. 

Prune  thou  thy  words,  the  thoughts  control 
That  o'er  thee  swell  and  throng  ; 

They  will  condense  within  thy  soul, 
And  change  to  purpose  strong. 

But  he  who  lets  his  feelings  run 

In  soft  luxurious  flow, 
Shrinks  when  hard  service  must  be  done, 

And  faints  at  every  woe. 

Faith's  meanest  deed  more  favor  bears. 
Where  hearts  and  wills  are  weigh'd, 

Than  brightest  transports,  choicest    prayers, 
Which  bloom  their  hour  and  fade. 

Off  Sardinia.  June  20,  fSj? 


HO  ZEAL   AXD  MEEKXESS. 


ZEAL  AXD  MEEKNESS. 

Christ  bade  His  followers  take  the  sword  ; 

And  vet  He  chid  the  deed, 
When  Peter  seized  upon  His  word, 

And  made  a  foe  to  bleed. 

The  gospel  Creed,  a  sword  of  strife, 

Meek  hands  alone  may  rear  ; 
And  ever  Zeal  begins  its  life 

In  silent  thought  and  fear. 

Ye,  who  would  weed  the  Vineyard's  soil, 

Treasure  the  lesson  given  ; 
Lest  in  the  judgment-books  ye  toil 

For  Satan,  not  for  heaven. 

Off  Sardinia.  June  20 .  /Sjj, 


VEXATIONS. 


VEXATIONS. 

Each  trial  has  its  weight  ;  which,  whoso  bears 
Knows  his  own  woe,  and    need    oi  succoring 

ce  : 

The  martyr's  hope  half  wipes  away  the  trace 
Of  flowing  blood  ;    the   while    life's  humblest 

cares 
Smart  more,  because  they  hold  in  Hoi)'   Writ 

no  place. 

This  be  my  comfort,  in  these  days  of  grief, 
Which  is  not  Christ's,  nor  forms  heroic  tale. 
Apart  from  Him,  if  not  a  sparrow  fail, 
May  not  He  pitying  view,  and  send  relief 
When  foes  or   friends    perplex,    and    peevish 
thoughts  prevail  ? 

Then  keep  good  heart,  nor  take  the    niggard 

course 
Of  Thomas,  who  must  see  ere  he  would  trust. 
Faith  will  fill  up  God's  word,  not  poorly  just 
To  the  bare  letter,  heedless  of  its  force, 
But  walking  by  its  light  amid  earth's  sun  and 

dust. 
Off  Sardinia.  June  2 1 ,  iSjj. 


1 1 2  THE    CHURCH  IN  PR  A  YER. 


THE  CHURCH  IN  PRAYER. 

Why  loiterest  within  Simon's  walls, 

Hard  by  the  barren  sea, 
Thou  Saint  !  when  many  a  sinner  calls 

To  preach  and  set  him  free  ? 

Can  this  be  he,  who  erst  confess'd 

For  Christ  affection  keen, 
Now  truant  in  untimely  rest, 

The  mood  of  an  Essene  ? 

Yet  he  who  at  the  sixth  hour  sought 

The  lone  house-top  to  pray, 
There  gain'd  a  sight  beyond  his  thought, 

The  dawn  of  Gentile  day. 

Then  reckon  not,  when  perils  lour, 

The  time  of  prayer  mis-spent  ; 
Nor  meanest  chance,  nor  place,  nor  hour, 

Without  its  heavenward  bent. 
Off  Sardinia.  June  2 1 ,  1833. 


THE    WRATH    7 0  II 


THE  WRATH  TO  COME. 

11  I- rem    His   mouth  came   out   a   sharp    two-edged 
sword." 

When  first  God  stirr'd  me.  and  the  Church's 

word 
Came  as  a  theme  of  reverent  search  and   fear. 
It  little  cost  to  own  the  lustre  clear 
O  ei  rule  she   taught,  and    rite,  and    doctrine 

pour'd  ; 
For  conscience  craved,  and  reason  did  accord. 
Vet  one  there  was  that  wore  a  mien  austere. 
And  I  did  doubt,  and.  troubled,  ask'd  to  hear 
Whose  mouth  had  lorce  to  edge    so    sharp    a 

-     >rd 
My  mother  oped  her  trust,  the  holy  Book  : 
And  healed  my    pang.      She    pointed,  and    I 

found 
Christ  on  Himself,  considerate  Master,  took 
The  utterance  ol  that  doctrine  s  fearful  sound. 
The  Fount  of  Love  His  sen-ants  sends  to   tell 
Love  s  deeds  ;    Himself  reveals    the    sinner's 

hell. 
Off  Sardinia.  Jmu  21.  iS;; 


1 14  PUSILLANIMITY. 


PUSILLANIMITY. 

'  *  I  have  need  to  be    baptized  of  Thee,   and   comest 
Thou  to  me  ?'' 

How  didst  thou  start.  Thou  Holy  Baptist,  bid 

To  pour  repentance  on  the  Sinless  Brow  ! 
Then  all  thy  meekness,  from  thy  hearers  hid, 
Beneath  the  Ascetic's  port,  and  Preachers 
lire, 
Flowd  forth,  and  with  a  pang  thou  dids:   de- 
sire 

He  might  be  chief,  not  thou. 

And  so  on  us  at  whiles  it  falls,  to  claim 
Powers  that  we  dread,  or  dare    some    forward 

part  : 
Nor  must  we  shrink  as  cravens  from  the  blame 
Of  pride,  in  common  eves,  or   purpose  deep  ; 
But  with  pure  thoughts  look  up  to   God,  and 

keep 

Our  secret  in  our  heart. 

At  Sea.  Junj  22,  iSjJ. 


JAMES  AXD   JOIIX.  115 


JAMES  AXD  JOHN. 

Two  brothers  freely  cast  their  lot 

With  David's  royal  Son ; 
The  cost  of  conquest  counting  not, 

They  deem  the  battle  won. 

Brothers  in  heart,  they  hope  to  gain 

An  undivided  joy  ; 
That  man  may  one  with  man  remain, 

As  boy  was  one  with  boy. 

Christ  heard  ;  and  will'd  that  James  should 
fall, 

First  prey  of  Satan's  rage  ; 
John  linger  out  his  fellows  all, 

And  die  m  bloodless  age. 

Now  they  join  hands  once  more  above, 

Before  the  Conqueror's  throne  ; 
Thus  God  grants  prayer,  but  in  His  love 

Makes  times  and  ways  His  own. 

At  Sea.  Jam  22,  1833. 


Il6  HORA   NO  VIS  SIM  A. 

HORA  NOVISSIMA. 

Whene'er  goes  forth  Thy  dread  command, 

And  my  last  hour  is  nigh, 
Lord,  grant  me  in  a  Christian  land, 

As  I  was  born,  to  die. 

I  pray  not,  Lord,  that  friends  may  be, 

Or  kindred,  standing  by, — 
Choice  blessing  !    which  I  leave  to  Thee 

To  grant  me  or  deny. 

But  let  my  failing  limbs  beneath 

My  Mother's  smile  recline  ; 
And  prayers   sustain  my  laboring  breath 

From  out  her  Sacred  shrine. 

And  let  the  Cross  beside  my  bed 

In  its  due  emblems  rest  : 
And  let  the  absolving  words  be  said, 

To  ease  a  laden  breast. 

Thou,  Lord,  where'er  we  lie,  canst  aid  ; 

But  He,  who  taught  His  own 
To  live  as  one,  will  not  upbraid 

The  dread  to  die  alone. 
At  Sea.  June  22,  1833. 


COX  SOLA  TJOJV.  1 1 7 

CONSOLATION. 

"It  is  I ;   be  not  afraid." 

When  I  sink  down  in  gloom  or  fear, 

Hope  blighted  or  delay'd, 
Thy  whisper,  Lord,  my  heart  shall  cheer, 

' '  Tis  I  ;   be  not  afraid  !  " 

Or,  startled  at  some  sudden  blow, 

If  fretful  thoughts  I  feel, 
"  Fear  not,  it  is  but  I  !  "  shall  flow, 

As  balm  my  wound  to  heal. 

Nor  will  I  quit  Thy  way,  though  foes 

Some  onward  pass  defend  ; 
From  each  rough  voice  the  watchword  goes, 

'*'  Be  not  afraid  !  ....  a  friend  !  " 

And  oh  !  when  judgment's  trumpet  clear 

Awakes  me  from  the  grave, 
Still  in  its  echo  may  I  hear, 

"  'Tis  Christ  ;    He  comes  to  save/' 

At  Sea.  June  23,  1833. 


Il8  UZZAH  AND   OBED-EDOM. 


UZZAH  AND  OBED-EDOM. 

The  ark  of  God  has  hidden  strength  ; 

Who  reverence  or  profane, 
They,  or  their  seed,  shall  find  at  length 

The  penalty  or  gain. 

While  as  a  sojourner  it  sought 

Of  old  its  destined  place, 
A  blessing  on  the  home  it  brought 

Of  one  who  did  it  grace. 

But  there  was  one,  outstripping  all 

The  holy-vestured  band, 
Who  laid  on  it,  to  save  its  fall, 

A  rude  corrective  hand. 

Read,    who  the  Church   would  cleanse,  and 
mark 

How  stern  the  warning  runs  ; 
There  are  two  ways  to  aid  her  ark — 

As  patrons,  and  as  sons. 
At  Sea.  June  24,  1833. 


THE   GIFT  OF  TONGUES.  1 19 


THE  GIFT  OF    TONGUES. 

Once  cast  with  men  of  language  strange 
And  foreign-moulded  creed, 

I  marked  their  random  converse  change, 
And  sacred  themes  succeed. 


Oh,  how  I  coveted  the  gift 

To  thread  their  mingled  throng 

Of  sounds,  then  high  my  witness  lift  ! 
But  weakness  chain ?d  mv  tongue. 


Lord  !  has  our  dearth  of  faith  and  prayer 

Lost  us  this  power  once  given, 
Or  is  it  sent  at  seasons  rare. 

And  then  flits  back  to  heaven  ? 

At  Sea.  June  24^  1833- 


120         THE  POWER    OF  PRAYER. 


THE  POWER  OF  PRAYER. 

There  is  not  on  the  earth  a  soul  so  base 

Bat  may  obtain  a  place 

In  covenanted  grace  ; 
So  that  his  feeble  prayer  of  faith  obtains 

Some  loosening  of  his  chains, 
And  earnests  of  the  great  release,  which  rise 
From  gift  to  gift,   and  reach    at   length   the 
eternal  prize. 

All  may  save  self; — but  minds   that   heaven- 
ward tower 

Aim  at  a  wider  power, 
Gifts  on  the  world  to  shower. — 
And  this  is  not  at  once  : — by  fastings  gain'd, 

And  trials  well  sustained, 
By  pureness,  righteous  deeds,  and  toils  of  love, 
Abidance  in  the  Truth,  and  zeal  for  God  above. 

At  Sea.  June  24*  ic?33> 


SEMI  T A    JUSTOKL'M.  121 


SEMITA  JUSTORUM. 

When*  I  look  back  upon  my  former  race, 

Seasons  I  see  at  which  the  Inward  Ray 

More  brightly  burn'd,  or   guided    some    new 

way  ; 
Truth,  in  its  wealthier  scene  and  nobler  space 
Given  for  my  eye  to  range,  and  feet  to  trace. 
And  next  I  mark,  'twas  trial  did  convey, 
Or  grief,  or  pain,  or  strange  eventful  day, 
To  my  tormented  soul  such  larger  grace. 
So  now,  whene'er,  in  journeying  on.  I  feel 
The  shadow  of  the  Providential  Hand, 
Deep    breathless  stirrings    shoot    across    my 

breast, 
Searching  to  know  what  He  will  now  reveal. 
What  sin  uncloak,  what  stricter  rule  command. 
And  girding  me  to  work  His  full  behest. 

At  Sea,  J fnne  25,  iSjj. 


122  THE  ELEMENTS, 

THE  ELEMENTS. 

(A  Tragic  Chorus.} 

Man  is  permitted  much 
To  scan  and  learn 
In  nature's  frame  ; 
Till  he  well-nigh  can  tame 
Brute  mischiefs  and  can  touch 
Invisible  things,  and  turn 
All  warring  ills  to  purposes  of  good. 
Thus,  as  a  god  below, 
He  can  control, 
And  harmonize,  what  seems  amiss  to  flow 
As  sever  d  from  the  whole 
And  dimly  understood. 

But  o'er  the  elements 

One  Hand  alone, 

One  Hand  has  sway. 
What  influence  day  by  day 
In  straiter  belt  prevents 
The  impious  Ocean,  thrown 


THE  ELEMENTS.  123 

Alternate  o'er  the  ever-sounding  shore  ? 
Or  who  Luis  eye  to  trace 
How  the  Plague  came  ? 
Forerun  the  doublings  of  the  Tempest's  race  ? 
Or  the  Air's  weight  and   flame 
On  a  set  scale  explore  ? 


Thus  God  has  will'd 
That  man,  when  fully  skill'd, 
Still  gropes  in  twilight  dim  ; 
Encompass'd  all  his  hours 

By  fearfullest  powers 

Inflexible  to  him, 
That  so  he  may  discern 

His  feebleness. 
And  e'en  for  earth's  success 

To  Him  in  wisdom  turn, 
Who  holds  for  us  the  keys  of  either  home. 
Earth  and  the  world  to  come. 

At  Sea.  June  23,  '$33- 


124  JUDAISM. 


JUDAISM. 

A  Tragic  Chorus. ) 

O  piteous  race  ! 
Fearful  to  look  upon, 
Once  standing  in  high  place, 
Heaven's  eldest  son. 
O  aged  blind 
Unvenerable  !  as  thou  flittest  by 
I  liken  thee  to  him  in  pagan  song, 
In  thy  gaunt  majesty, 
The  vagrant  King,  of  haughty-purposed  mind, 
Whom  prayer  nor  plague  could    bend  :' 
Wrong'd,  at  the  cost    of  him    who    did     the 

wrong, 
Accursed  himself,  but  in  his  cursing  strong, 
And  honored  in  his  end. 

1  Vide  the  CEdipus  Coloneus  of  Sophocles. 


JUDAISM.  125 

O  Abraham  !   sire, 
Shamed  in  thy  pr<  \geny  ; 
Who  to  thy  faith  aspire, 

Thy  Hope  deny. 
Well  wast  thou  given 
From  out  the  heathen  an  adopted  heir. 
Raised  strangely  from  the  dead  when  sin  had 
slain 

Thy  former-cherish'd  care. 
O  holy  men,  ye  first-wrought  gems  of  heaven 

Polluted  in  your  kin. 
Come  to  our  fonts,  your  lustre  to  regain. 
O  Holiest  Lord  !  .  .  .  .  but  Thou  canst  take 
no  stain 

Of  blood,  or  taint  of  sin. 

Twice  in  their  day 
Proffer  of  precious  cost 
Was  made,  Heaven's  hand  to  stay 
Ere  all  was  lost. 
The  first  prevail'd  ; 
Moses  was  outcast  from  the  promised  home, 
For  his  own  sin,  yet  taken  at  his  prayer 

To  change  his  people's  doom. 
Close  on  their  eve,  one  other  ask'd  and  fail 'd  : 


I  2  6         SEPARA  TION  OF  FRIENDS. 

When  fervent  Paul  was  fain 
The    accursed  tree,   as  Christ  had  borne,   to 

bear, 
No  hopeful  answer  came, — a  Price  more  rare 

Already  shed  in  vain. 

Off  Marseilles  Harbor.  jfune  27,  1 8  jj. 


SEPARATION  OF  FRIENDS. 

Do  not  their  souls,  who  'neath'  the  Altar  wait 

Until  their  second  birth, 
The  gift  of  patience  need,  as  separate 

From  their  first  friends  of  earth  ? 
Not  that  earth's  blessings  are  not  all  outshone 

By  Eden's  Angel  flame, 
But  that  earth  knows  not  yet,  the  Dead  has 
won 

That  crown,  which  was  his  aim. 
For  when  he  left  it,  'twas  a  twilight  scene 

About  his  silent  bier, 
A  breathless  struggle,  faith  and  sight  between, 

And  Hope  and  sacred  Fear. 


SEPARATION  OF   FRIENDS.        127 

Fear  startled  at  his  pains  and  dreary  end, 

Hope  raised  her  chalice  hig]  . 
And  the  twin-sisters  still  his  shade  attend, 

Yiew'd  in  the  mourners  eve. 
So  day  by  day  for  him  from  earth  ascends, 

As  steam  in  summer-even, 
The  speechless  intercession  of  his  friends, 

Toward  the  azure  heaven. 
Ah  !  dearest,  with  a  word  he  could  dispel 

All  questioning,  and  raise 
Our  hearts  to  rapture,  whispering  all  was  well, 

And  turning  prayer  to  praise. 
And  other  secrets  too  he  could  declare, 

By  patterns  all  divine. 
His  earthly  creed  retouching  here  and  there, 

And  deepening  even*  line. 
Dearest !  he  longs  to  speak,  as  I  to  know. 

And  yet  we  both  refrain  : 
It  were  not  good  :  a  little  doubt  below. 

And  all  will  soon  be  plain.- 

Marseilles.  Jwie  27,  t8jj. 

5  The  last  twelve  lines  were   added  Feb.  28.  1836, 
the  date  of  R.  Hurrell  Froude's  death. 


128  EVENING. 

MORNING. 

FROM    ST.     GREGORY    NAZIANZEN. 

I  rise  and  raise  my  clasped  hands  to  Thee  ! 
Henceforth,  the  darkness  hath  no  part  in  me, 

Thy  sacrifice  this  day  ; 
Abiding  firm,  and  with  a  freeman's  might 
Stemming  the  waves  of  passion  in  the  fight ; — 

Ah,  should  I  from  Thee  stray, 
My  hoary  head,  Thy  table  where  1  bow. 
Will  be  my  shame,  which  are  mine  honor  now. 
Thus  I  set  out ; — Lord  !  lead  me  on  my  way ! 
Oxford.  1834- 


EVENING. 

FROM    ST.     GREGORY    NAZIANZEN. 

0  Holiest  Truth  !  how  have  I  lied  to  Thee  ! 

1  vow'd  this  day  Thy  festival  should  be  : 

But  I  am  dim  ere  night. 
Surely  I  made  my  prayer,  and  I  did  deem 
That  I  could  keep  in  me  Thy  morning  beam, 

Immaculate  and  bright. 


A    HERMITAGE.  1 29 

But  my  foot  slipp'd  ;  and,  as  I  lay,  he  came, 
My  gloomy  foe,  and  robb'd  me  of  heaven's 

llame. 
Help  Thou  my  darkness,  Lord,  till  I  am  light. 
Oxford.  S&S4- 


A  HERMITAGE. 

FROM    ST.     GREGORY    NAZIAXZEN. 

Some  one  whisper  d  yesterday, 
Of  the  rich  and  fashionable, 

Gregory  in  his  own  small  way 
Easy  was  and  comfortable. 

Had  he  not  o[  wealth  his  fill 
Whom  a  garden  gay  did  bless, 

And  a  irentlv  trickling  rill, 
And  the  sweets  of  idleness  ? 

T  made  answer  : — "  Is  it  ease 
Easts  to  keep  and  tears  to  shed, 

Vigil  hours  and  wounded  knees. 
Call  you  these  a  pleasant  bed  ?w 
Q 


1 30  INTERCESSION. 

Thus  a  veritable  monk 

Does  to  death  his  fleshly  frame  ; 
Be  there  who  in  sloth  are  sunk, 

They  have  forfeited  the  name. 

Oxford.  1834 


INTERCESSION. 

While  Moses  on  the  Mountain  lay, 
Night  after  night,  and  day  by  day, 

Till  forty  suns  were  gone, 
Unconscious,  in  the  Presence  bright, 
Of  lustrous  day  and  starry  night, 
As  though  his  soul  had  flitted  quite 

From  earth,  and  Eden  won  ; 

The  pageant  of  a  kingdom  vast, 
And  things  unutterable,  pass'd 

Before  the  Prophet's  eye  ; 
Dread  shadows  of  th'  Eternal  Throne 
The  fount  of  Life,  and  Altar-stone, 
Pavement,  and  them  that  tread  thereon, 

And  those  who  worship  nigh. 


WAITING  FOR    THE  MORNING.     131 

Bat  lest  he  should  his 

Wh    in  th  :  \ ... .-  were  si  ngg 
A  -.;  :  lei  vision  came. 

Announcing  all  that  guilty  deed 

Of  idol  :  in  their  need 

■r  his  flock  might  intercede, 
An.;  ::ne. 

September  4,   1 


WAITING  FOR  THE  MORNING 

"  Quoddam  quasi   pratum,    in    quo    animx    nihil 
patiebanlur.  ant,  nondum  idonear 

Be  a.  His:,  v. 

They  are  at  : 
We  may  not  stir  the  heaven  of  their  repose 
With  loud-voiced  grief,  or  pass 

Or  selfish  plaint  for  th 
Who  in  the  mountain  grots  of  Eden  lie, 
And  hear  the  fourfold  river,  as  it  hurries  by. 


132      WAITING  FOR    THE  MORNING. 

They  hear  it  sweep 
In  distance  down  the  dark  and  savage  vale  ; 
But  they  at  eddying  pool  or  current  deep 

Shall  never  more  grow  pale  ; 
They   hear,    and  meekly   muse,    as    fain  to 

know 
How  long  untired,  unspent,  that  giant  stream 
shall  flow. 


And  soothing  sounds 
Blend    with  the  neighboring   waters  as  they 

glide  ; 
Posted  along  the  haunted  garden's  bounds 

Angelic  forms  abide, 
Echoing,   as  words  of  watch,   o'er  lawn  and 

grove, 
The  verses  of  that  hymn  which  Seraphs  chant 

above. 
Oxford.  1835- 


HmmtiS  for  ^lathis.1 


SUNDAY. 


Primo  die.  quo  Trinitas. 


To-day  the  Blessed  Three  in  One 
Began  the  earth  and  skies  : 

To-day  a  Conqueror.  God  the  Son, 
Did  from  the  nave  arise  : 


1  These  Hymns  are   all  free  translations,  made  in 
:rom  the  Roman  breviary,  except  two,  which 
are  from  the  Parisian. 


134  HYMNS  FOR  MATINS. 

We  too  will  wake,  and,  m  despite 
Of  sloth  and  languor,  all  unite, 
As  Psalmists  bid,  through  the  dim  night 
Waiting  with  wistful  eyes. 

So  may  He  hear,  and  heed  each  vow 

And  prayer  to  Him  addressed  ; 
And  grant  an  instant  cleansing  now, 

A  future  glorious  rest. 
So  may  He  plentifully  shower, 
On  all  who  hymn  His  love  and  power, 
In  this  most  still  and  sacred  hour 
His  sweetest  gifts  and  best. 

Father  of  purity  and  light ! 

Thy  presence  if  we  win, 
'Twill  shield  us  from  the  deeds  of  night, 

The  burning  darts  of  sin  ; 
Lest  aught  defiled  or  dissolute 
Relax  our  bodies  or  imbrute, 
And  fires  eternal  be  the  fruit 

Of  fire  now  lit  within. 

Fix  in  our  hearts,  Redeemer  dear, 

The  ever-gushing  spring 
Of  grace  to  cleanse,  of  life  to  cheer 

Souls  sick  and  sorrowing. 


SUNDAY  II.  1 35 

Thee,  bounteous  Father,  weintreat, 

And  Only  Son,  awful  and  sweet, 
And  life-creating  Paraclete, 
The  everlasting  Kin^. 


SUNDAY.— 2. 

Nocte  surgentes. 


Let  us  arise,  and  watch  by  night, 

And  meditate  always  ; 
And  chant,  as  in  our  Maker's  sight, 

United  hymns  of  praise. 

So,  singing  with  the  Saints  in  bliss, 
With  them  we  may  attain 

Life  everlasting  after  this. 
And  heaven  for  earthly  pain. 

Grant  this,  O  Father,  Only  Son, 
And  Spirit    God  of  grace, 

To  whom  all  worship  shall  be  done 
In  even-  time  and  place. 


136  HYMNS  FOR  MATINS, 


MONDAY. 

Somno  refecti  artubus. 

Sleep  has  refreshed  our  limbs,  we  spring 

From  off  our  bed,  and  rise  ; 
Lord,  on  Thy  suppliants,  while  they  sing, 

Look  with  a  Father's  eyes. 

Be  Thou  the  first  on  every  tongue, 

The  first  in  every  heart  ; 
That  all  our  doings  all  day  long, 

Holiest  !  from  Thee  mav  start. 


Cleanse  Thou  the  gloom,  and  bid  the  light 

Its  healing  beams  renew  ; 
The  sins,  which  have  crept  in  with  night, 

With  night  shall  vanish  too. 


TUESDAY.  137 

Our  bosoms,  Lord,  unburthen  Thou. 

Let  nothing  there  offend  ; 
That  those  who  hymn  Thy  praises  now 

May  hymn  them  to  the  end. 

Grant  this,  O  Father,  Only  Son, 

And  Spirit,  God  of  grace, 
To  whom  all  worship  shall  be  done 

In  every  time  and  place. 


TUESDAY. 

Consors  Paterni  luminis. 

O  God  from  God.  and  Light  from  Light, 

Who  art  Thyself  the  day, 
Our  chants  shall  break  the  clouds  of  night ; 

Be  with  us  while  we  pray. 

Chase  Thou  the  gloom  that  haunts  the  mind, 
The  thronging  shades  of  hell, 


J 


138  HYMNS  FOR  MATINS. 

The  sloth  and  drowsiness  that  bind 
The  senses  with  a  spell. 

Lord,  to  their  sins  indulgent  be, 
Who,  in  this  hour  forlorn, 

By  faith  in  what  they  do  not  see, 
With  songs  prevent  the  morn. 

Grant  this,  O  Father,  etc. 


WEDNESDAY. 
Rerum  Creator  optime. 

Who  madest  all  and  dost  control, 
Lord,  with  Thy  touch  divine, 

Cast  out  the  slumbers  of  the  soul, 
The  rest  that  is  not  Thine. 

Look  down,  Eternal  Holiness, 
And  wash  the  sins  away, 

Of  those,  who,  rising  to  confess, 
Outstrip  the  lingering  day. 


THURSDAY.  139 

Our  hearts  and  hands  by  night,  O  Lord, 

We  lift  them  in  our  need  ■ 
As  holy  Psalmists  give  the  w< 

And  holy  Paul  the  deed. 

Each  sin  to  Thee  of  years  gone  by, 

Each  hidden  stain  lies  bare  : 
We  shrink  not  from  Thine  awful  eye, 

But  pray  that  Thou  wouldst  spare. 

Grant  this,  O  Father,  etc. 


THURSDAY. 

Xox  atra  rerum  contegit. 

All  tender  lights,  all  hues  divine 
The  night  has  swept  away  ; 

Shine  on  us.  Lord,  and  we  shall  shine 
Bright  in  an  inward  day 

The  spots  of  guilt,  sin's  wages  base, 
Searcher  of  hearts,  we  own  ; 

Wash  us  and  robe  us  in  Thy  grace, 
Who  didst  for  sins  atone. 


140  HYMNS  FOR  MATINS. 

The  sluggard  soui,  that  bears  their  mark, 

Shrinks  in  its  silent  lair, 
Or  gropes  amid  its  chambers  dark 

For  Thee,  who  art  not  there. 

Redeemer  !  send  Thy  piercing  rays, 

That  we  may  bear  to  be 
Set  in  the  light  of  Thy  pure  gaze, 

And  yet  rejoice  in  Thee. 

Grant  this,  O  Father,  etc. 


FRIDAY. 

Tu  Trinitatis  Unitas. 

May  the  dread  Three  in  One,  who  sways 
All  with  His  sovereign  might, 

Accept  us  for  this  hymn  of  praise, 
His  watchers  in  the  night. 

For  in  the  night,  when  all  is  still, 

We  spurn  our  bed  and  rise, 
To  find  the  balm  for  ghostly  ill, 

His  bounteous  hand  supplies. 


SATURDAY.  l\\ 

If  e'er  by  night  our  envious  foe 
With  guilt  our  souls  would  stain, 

May  the  deep  streams  of  mercy  flow, 
And  make  us  white  again  ; 

That  so  with  bodies  braced  and  bright, 

And  hearts  awake  within, 
All  fresh  and  keen  may  burn  our  light, 

Undimm'd,  unsoil'd  by  sin. 

Shine  on  Thine  own,  Redeemer  sweet  ! 

Thy  radiance  increate 
Through  the  long  day  shall  keep  our  feet 

In  their  pure  morning  state. 

Grant  this,  O  Father,  etc. 


SATURDAY. 

Suminae  Parens  dementias. 

Father  of  mercies  infinite. 

Ruling  all  things  that  be. 
Who,  shrouded  in  the  depth  and  height, 

Art  One,  and  vet  art  Thre 


142  HYMNS  FOR  MATINS, 

Accept  our  chants,  accept  our  tears, 

A  mingled  stream  we  pour  ; 
Such  stream  the  laden  bosom  cheers, 

To  taste  Thy  sweetness  more. 

Purge  Thou  with  fire  the  oercharged  mind/ 
Its  sores  and  wounds  profound  ; 

And  with  the  watcher's  girdle  bind 
The  limbs  which  sloth  has  bound. 

That  they  who  with  their  chants  by  night 

Before  Thy  presence  come, 
All  may  be  mTd  with  strength  and  light 

From  their  eternal  home. 

Grant  this,  O  Father,  etc 


SUNDAY.  143 


2tttmn.s  for  £autte. 


.-UN  DAY. 
Sterne  rerum  conditor. 

Framer  of  the  earth  and  sky, 
Ruler  of  the  day  and  night, 

With  a  glad  variety, 

Tempering  all,  and  making  light ; 

Gleams  upon  our  dark  path  flinging, 
Cutting  short  each  night  begun, 

Hark  !  for  chanticleer  is  singing, 
Hark  !  he  chides  the  lingering  sun. 

And  the  morning  star  replies. 

And  lets  loose  the  imprisoned  day  ; 

And  the  godless  bandit  flies 

From  his  haunt  and  from  his  prey. 


J44  HYMNS  FOR  LAUDS. 

Shrill  it  sounds,  the  storm  relenting 
Soothes  the  weary  seaman's  ears ; 

Once  it  wrought  a  great  repenting, 
In  that  flood  of  Peter's  tears. 

Rouse  we  ;  let  the  blithesome  cry 
Of  that  bird  our  hearts  awaken  ; 

Chide  the  slumberers  as  they  lie, 
And  arrest  the  sin-o'ertaken. 

Hope  and  health  are  in  his  strain, 
To  the  fearful  and  the  ailing  ; 

Murder  sheathes  his  blade  profane, 
Faith  revives  when  faith  was  failing. 

Jesu,  Master  !  when  we  sin, 
Turn  on  us  Thy  healing  face  ; 

It  will  melt  the  offence  within 
Into  penitential  grace  : 

Beam  on  our  bewilder'd  mind, 
Till  its  dreamy  shadows  flee  ; 

Stones  cry  out  where  Thou  hast  shined, 
Jesu  !  musical  with  Thee. 


SUNDAY.  145 

To  the  Father  and  the  Son, 

And  the  Spirit,  who  in  Heaven 

Ever  witness,  Three  and  One, 
Praise  on  Earth  be  ever  given. 


SUNDAY. 

Ecce  jam  noctis. 

Paler  have  grown  the  shades  of  night, 

And  nearer  draws  the  day, 
Checkering  the  sky  with  streaks  of  light. 

Since  we  began  to  pray  : 

To  pray  for  mercy  when  we  sin, 

For  cleansing  and  release, 
For  ghostly  safety,  and  within 

For  everlasting  peace. 

Praise  to  the  Father,  as  is  meet 

Praise  to  the  Only  Son, 
Praise  to  the  Holy  Paraclete, 

While  endless  ages  run. 
10 


'46  HYMNS  FOR  LAUDS. 

MONDAY. 

Splendor  Paternse  gloria 

Of  the  Father  Effluence  bright, 
Out  of  Light  evolving  light, 
Light  from  Light,  unfailing  Ray, 
Day  creative  of  the  day  : 

Truest  Sun,  upon  us  stream 
With  Thy  calm  perpetual  beam, 
In  the  Spirit's  still  sunshine 
Making  sense  and  thought  divine. 

Seek  we  too  the  Father's  face, 

Father  of  almighty  grace, 

And  of  majesty  excelling, 

Who  can  purge  our  tainted  dwelling  ; 

Who  can  aid  us,  who  can  break 
Teeth  of  envious  foes,  and  make 
Hours  of  loss  and  pain  succeed, 
Guiding  safe  each  duteous  deed, 


MONDAY.  147 

And  infusing  self-control, 
Fragrant  chastity  of  soul, 
Faith's  keen  flame  to  soar  on  high, 
Incorrupt  simplicity. 

Christ  Himself  for  food  be  given, 
Faith  become  the  cup  of  Heaven, 
Out  of  which  the  joy  is  quaff  'd 
Of  the  Spirit's  sobering  draught. 

With  that  joy  replenished, 
Morn  shall  glow  with  modest  red, 
\     <n  with  beaming  faith  be  bright, 
Eve  be  soft  without  twilight. 

It  has  dawn'd  ; — upon  our  way. 

Father,  in  Thy  Word,  this  day. 
In  Thy  Father  Word  Divine, 
From  Thy  cloudy  pillar  shine. 

To  the  Father,  and  the  Son, 
And  the  Spirit,  Three  and  One, 
As  of  old,  and  as  in  Heaven, 
Now  and  here  be  2;lorv  siven. 


148  HYMNS  FOR  LAUDS. 

TUESDAY. 

Ales  diei  nuntius. 

Day's  herald  bird 
At  length  is  heard, 

Telling  its  morning  torch  is  lit, 

And  small  and  still 

Christ's  accents  thrill, 

Within  the  heart  rekindling  it. 

Away,  He  cries, 

With  languid  eyes, 
And  sickly  slumbers  profitless  ! 

I  am  at  hand, 

As  watchers  stand, 
In  awe,  and  truth,  and  holiness. 

He  will  appear 
The  hearts  to  cheer 

Of  suppliants  pale  and  abstinent. 
Who  cannot  sleep 
Because  they  weep 

With  holy  grief  and  violent. 


WEDNESDAY.  149 

Keep  us  awake. 
The  fetters  break, 
esu  !  which  night  has  forged  for  us  ; 
Yea,  melt  the  night 
To  sinless  light, 
Till  all  is  bright  and  glorious. 

To  Father,  Son, 

And  Spirit,  One, 
To  the  Most  Holy  Trinity, 

All  praise  be  given 

In  Earth  and  Heaven, 
Now,  as  of  old.  and  endlesslv. 


WEDNESDAY. 
Xox  et  tenebrse  et  nubiia. 

Haunting  gloom  and  flitting  shades, 

Ghastly  shapes,  away  ! 
Christ  is  rising,  and  pervades 

Highest  Heaven  with  day. 


150  HYMNS  FOR  LAUDS. 

He  with  His  bright  spear  the  night 

Dazzles  and  pursues  ; 
Earth  wakes  up,  and  glows  with  light 

Of  a  thousand  hues. 


Thee,  O  Christ,  and  Thee  alone, 

With  a  single  mind, 
We  with  chant  and  plaint  would  own 

To  Thv  flock  be  kind. 


Much  it  needs  Thy  light  divine, 
Spot  and  stain  to  clean  ; 

Light  of  Angels,  on  us  shine 
With  Thy  face  serene. 

To  the  Father,  and  the  Son, 

And  the  Holy  Ghost, 
Here  be  glory,  as  is  done 

By  the  angelic  host. 


THURSDA  V.  151 

THURSDAY. 

Lux  ccce  surgit  aurea. 

See,  the  golden  dawn  is  glowing, 
While  the  paly  'shades  are  going, 
Which  have  led  us  far  and  long, 
In  a  labyrinth  of  wrong. 

May  it  bring  us  peace  serene  ; 
May  it  cleanse,  as  it  is  clean  : 
Plain  and  clear  our  words  be  spoke. 
And  our  thoughts  without  a  cloak  : 

So  the  day's  account,  shall  stand. 
Guileless  tongue  and  holy  hand, 
Stedfast  eyes  and  unbeguiled, 
"  Flesh  as  of  a  little  child." 

There  is  One  who  from  above 
Watches  how  the  still  hours  move 
Of  our  day  of  service  done. 
From  the  dawn  to  setting  sun. 

To  the  Father,  and  the  Son, 
And  the  Spirit,  Three  and  One, 


I52  HYMNS  FOR  LAUDS. 

As  of  old,  and  as  in  Heaven, 
Now  and  here  be  glory  given. 


FRIDAY. 
^Eterna  coeli  gloria. 


Glory  of  the  eternal  Heaven, 
Blessed  Hope  to  mortals  given, 
Of  the  Almighty  Only  Son, 
And  the  Virgin's  Holy  One  : 
Raise  us,  Lord,  and  we  shall  rise 

In  a  sober  mood, 
And  a  zeal,  which  glorifies 

Thee  from  gratitude. 

Now  the  day- star,  keenly  glancing, 
Tells  us  of  the  Sun's  advancing  : 
While  the  unhealthy  shades  decline. 
Rise  within  us,  Light  Divine  ! 
Rise,  and,  risen,  go  not  hence. 

Stay,  and  make  us  bright, 
Streaming  through  each  cleansed  sense, 

On  the  outward  night. 


SATURDAY.  I  S3 

Then  the  root  of  faith  shall  spread 
In  the  heart  new  fashioned  ; 
Gladsome  hope  shall  spring  above, 
And  shall  bear  the  fruit  of  love. 
To  the  Father,  and  the  Son, 

And  the  Holy  Ghost, 
Here  be  glory,  as  is  done 

By  the  angelic  host. 


SATURDAY. 
Aurora  jam  spargit  polum. 

The  dawn  is  sprinkled  o'er  the  sky, 

The  day  steals  softly  on  ; 
Its  darts  are  scatter'd  far  and  nigh, 
And  all  that  fraudful  is,  shall  fly 

Before  the  brightening  sun  : 
Spectres  of. ill,  that  stalk  at  will. 

And  forms  of  guilt  that  fright 
And  hideous  sin,  that  ventures  in 

Under  the  cloak  of  night. 


1 54  PRIME. 

And  of  our  crimes  the  tale  complete, 

Which  bows  us  in  Thy  sight, 
Up  to  the  latest,  they  shall  fleet, 
Out- told  by  our  full  numbers  sweet, 
And  melted  by  the  light. 

To  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  One, 
Whom  we  adore  and  love, 

Be  given  all  praise,  now  and  always, 
Here  as  in  Heaven  above. 


PRIME. 

Jam  lucis  orto  sidere. 
{From  the  Parisian  Breviary.^) 

Now  that  the  day-star  glimmers  bright, 

We  suppliantly  pray 
That  He,  the  uncreated  Light, 

May  guide  us  on  our  way. 

1  Vide  the  Anglo-Norman  History  of  Sir  Francis 
Palgrave  (Vol.  iii.  p.  588),  who  did  the  Author  the 
honor  of  asking  him  for  a  translation  of  this  hymn, 
as  also  of  the  Christe  Pastorum,  infra. 


PRIME.  155 

No  sinful  word,  nor  deed  of  wrong, 

Nor  thoughts  that  idly  rove  ; 
But  simple  truth  be  on  our  tongue, 

And  in  our  hearts  be  love. 

And,  while  the  hours  in  order  flow, 

O  Christ,  securely  fence 
Our  gates,  beleaguer' d  by  the  foe, — 

The  gate  of  even*  sense. 

And  grant  that  to  Thine  honor,  Lord, 

Our  daily  toil  may  tend  ; 
That  we  begin  it  at  Thy  word, 

And  in  Thy  favor  end. 

And,  lest  the  flesh  in  its  excess 

Should  lord  it  o'er  the  soul, 
Let  taming  abstinence  repress 

The  rebel,  and  control. 

To  God  the  Father  glory  be, 

And  to  His  Only  Son, 
And  to  the  Spirit,  One  and  Three, 

While  endless  ages  run. 

Littlemore.  February,  1842. 


1 56  TERCE. 


TERCE. 

Nunc  Sancte  nobis  Spiritus* 

Come,  Holy  Ghost,  who  ever  One 
Reignest  with  Father  and  with  Son, 
It  is  the  hour,  our  souls  possess 
With  Thy  full  food  of  holiness. 

Let  flesh,  and  heart,  and  lips,  and  mind, 
Sound  forth  our  witness  to  mankind  ; 
And  love  light  up  our  mortal  frame, 
Till  others  catch  the  living  flame. 

Now  to  the  Father,  to  the  Son, 
And  to  the  Spirit,  Three  in  One, 
Be  praise  and  thanks  and  glory  given 
By  men  on  earth,  by  Saints  in  heaven. 


SEX7\  157 


SEXT. 

Rector  potens,  verax  Deus. 

O  God,  who  canst  not  change  nor  fail. 
Guiding  the  hours,  as  they  roll  by. 

Brightening  with  beams  the  morning  pale, 
And  burning  in  the  mid-day  sky, 

Quench  Thou  the  fires  of  hate  and  strife, 
The  wasting  fever  of  the  heart  : 

From  perils  guard  our  feeble  life, 
And  to  our  souls  Thy  peace  impart, 

Grant  this,  O  Father,  Only  Son, 
And  Holy  Spirit,  God  of  grace, 

To  whom  all  glory,  Three  in  One, 
Be  given  in  every  time  and  place. 


158  NONE. 


NONE. 
Rerum  Deus  tenax  vigorc 

O  God,  unchangeable  and  true, 

Of  all  the  Life  and  Power, 
Dispensing  light  in  silence  through 

Every  successive  hour, 

Lord,  brighten  our  declining  day, 

That  it  may  never  wane, 
Till  death,  when  all  things  round  decay, 

Brings  back  the  morn  again. 

This  grace  on  Thy  redeem'd  confer, 

Father,  Co-equal  Son, 
And  Holy  Ghost,  the  Comforter, 

Eternal  Three  in  One. 


y^y  Q$m$ut%tsvm. 


SUNDAY. 

Lucis  Creator  optimc. 

Father    of  Lights,    by 
whom  each  day 
Is    kindled     out    of 
night. 
Who,  when  the  heavens  were  made,  didst  lay 

Their  rudiments  in  light  ; 
Thou,  who  didst  bind  and  blend  in  one 

The  glistening  morn  and  evening  pale. 
Hear  Thou  our  plaint,  when  light  is  gone. 
And  lawlessness  and  strife  prevail. 

159 


160  HYMNS  FOR    VESPERS. 

Hear,  lest  the  whelming  weight  of  crime 

Wreck  us  with  life  in  view  ; 
Lest  thoughts  and  schemes  of  sense  and  time 

Earn  us  a  sinner's  due. 
So  may  we  knock  at  Heaven's  door, 

And  strive  the  immortal  prize  to  win, 
Continually  and  evermore 

Guarded  without  and  pure  within. 

Grant  this,  O  Father,  Only  Son, 

And  Spirit,  God  of  grace, 
To  whom  all  worship  shall  be  done 

In  ever}7  time  and  place. 


MONDAY. 

Immense  cceli  conditor. 

Lord  of  unbounded  space, 

Who,  lest  the  sky  and  main 
Should  mix,  and  heaven  should  lose  its  place, 
Didst  the  rude  waters  chain  ; 


MONDAY.  161 

Parting  the  moist  and  rare. 
That  rills  on  earth  might  flow- 
To  soothe  the  angry  flame,  whene'er 
It  ravens  from  below  : 


Pour  on  us  of  Thy  grace 
The  everlasting  spring  ; 
Lest  our  frail  steps  renew  the  trace 
Of  the  ancient  wandering. 


May  faith  in  lustre  grow, 
And  rear  her  star  in  heaven, 
Paling  all  sparks  of  earth  below. 
Unquench'd  by  damps  of  even. 

Grant  it,  O  Father,  Son, 
And  Holy  Spirit  of  grace, 
To  whom  be  glory.  Three  in  One5 
In  even*  time  and  place. 


1 62  HYMNS  FOR    VESPERS. 


TUESDAY. 

Telluris  alme  conditor. 

All-bountiful  Creator,  who, 

When  Thou  didst  mould  the  world,  didst  drain 

The  waters  from  the  mass,  that  so 

Earth  might  immovable  remain  ; 

That  its  dull  clods  it  might  transmute 
To  golden  flowers  in  vale  or  wood, 
To  juice  of  thirst-allaying  fruit, 
And  grateful  herbage  spread  for  food  ; 

Wash  Thou  our  smarting  wounds  and  hot, 
In  the  cool  freshness  of  Thy  grace  : 
Till  tears  start  forth  the  past  to  blot, 
And  cleanse  and  calm  Thy  holy  place  ; 

Till  we  obey  Thy  full  behest. 

Shun  the  world's  tainted  touch  and  breath, 

Joy  in  what  highest  is  and  best, 

And  gain  a  spell  to  baffle  death. 


WEDNESDAY.  163 

int  it,  O  Father  5   n. 

And  Holy  Spirit,  I  !  ice  ; 

To  whom  all  glory,  Three  in  One, 
[given  in  every  time  and  place. 


WEDNESDAY. 

Coeli  Deus  sanctissime. 

O  Lord,  who,  thron'd  in  the  holy  height, 
Through  plains  of  ether  didst  diffuse 
The  dazzling  beams  of  light. 
In  soft  transparent  hues  ; 

Who  didst,  on  the  fourth  day,  in  heaven 
Light  the  fierce  cresset  of  the  sun. 
And  the  meek  moon  at  even. 
And  stars  that  wildly  run  : 

That  they  might  mark  and  arbitrate 
Twixt  alternating  night  and  day, 
And  tend  the  train  sedate 
Of  months  upon  their  way  ; 


1 


164 


IIYMXS  FOR    VESPERS. 


Clear,  Lord,  the  brooding  night  within, 
And  clean  these  hearts  for  Thy  abode, 
Unlock  the  spell  of  sin, 
Crumble  its  giant  load. 

Grant  it,  O  Father,  Only  Son, 
And  Holy  Spirit,  God  of  grace, 
To  whom  all  praise  be  done 
In  every  time  and  place. 


THURSDAY. 

Magnse  Deus  potentiae. 


O  God,  who  hast  given 

the  sea  and  the  sky, 
To  fish  and  to  bird 

for  a  dwelling  to  keep 
Both  sons  of  the  waters, 

one  low  and  one  high, 
Ambitious  oi  heaven, 

yet  sunk  in  the  deep  ; 


FRIDAY.  165 

Save.  Lord,  Thy  servants, 

whom  Thou  hast  new  made 
In  a  laver  of  blood. 

lest  they  trespass  and  die  ; 
Lest  pride  should  elate. 

sin  should  degrade. 
And  the\-  stumble  on  earth, 

or  be  dizzied  on  high. 

To  the  Father  and  Son 
And  the  Spirit  be  done, 
Now  and  always, 
Glorv  and  praise. 


FRIDAY. 
Hominis  superne  Conditor. 

Whom  all  obey. — 
Maker  of  man  !  who  from  thy  height 
Badest  the  dull  earth  bring  to  light 
All  creeping  things,  and  the  fierce  might 

Of  beasts  of  prey  : — 


1 66  HYMNS  FOR    VESPERS. 

And  the  huge  make 
Of  wild  or  gentler  animal, 
Springing  from  nothing  at  Thy  call, 
To  serve  in  their  due  time,  and  all 

For  sinners'  sake  ; 


Shield  us  from  ill  ! 
Come  it  by  passion's  sudden  stress, 
Lurk  in  our  minds'  habitual  dress, 
Or  through  our  actions  seek  to  press 

Upon  our  will. 

Vouchsafe  the  prize 
Of  sacred  joy's  perpetual  mood, 
And  service-seeking  gratitude, 
And  love  to  quell  each  strife  or  feud, 

If  it  arise. 


Grant  it,  O  Lord  ! 
To  whom,  the  Father,  Only  Son, 
And  Holy  Spirit,  Three  in  One, 
In  heaven  and  earth  all  praise  be  done, 

With  one  accord. 


1 


SATURDAY.  167 


SATURDAY. 

Jam  sol  recedit  igneus. 

The  red  sun  is  gone, 

Thou  Light  of  the  heart, 
Blessed  Three,   Holy  One, 
To  Thy  servants  a  sun 

Everlasting  impart. 

There  were  Lauds  in  the  morn, 

Here  are  Vespers  at  even  ; 

Oh,  may  we  adorn 

Thy  temple  new  born 

With  our  voices  in  Heaven. 

To  the  Father  be  praise, 

And  praise  to  the  Son 

And  the  Spirit  always. 

While  the  infinite  days 
Of  eternity  run. 


1 68  COMPLINE. 


COMPLINE. 

Te  lucis  ante  terminum. 

Now  that  the  day-light  dies  away, 

By  all  Thy  grace  and  love, 
Thee,  Maker  of  the  world,  we  pray 

To  watch  our  bed  above. 

Let  dreams  depart  and  phantoms  fly, 

The  offspring  of  the  night, 
Keep  us,  like  shrines,  beneath  Thine  eye, 

Pure  in  our  foe's  despite. 

This  grace  on  Thy  redeem 'd  confer, 

Father,  Co-equal  Son, 
And  Holy  Ghost,  the  Comforter, 

Eternal  Three  in  One. 


ADVENT— VESPERS.  169 

ADVENT— VESPERS. 

Creator  aline  siderum. 

Creator  of  the  starry  pole, 

Saviour  of  all  who  live. 
And  light  of  every  faithful  soul, 

Jesu,  these  prayers  receive. 

Who  sooner  than  our  foe  malign 

Should  triumph,  from  above 
Didst  come,  to  be  the  medicine 

Of  a  sick  world,  in  love  ; 

And  the  deep  wounds  to  cleanse  and  cure 

Of  a    whole  race,  didst  go, 
Pure  Victim,  from  a  Virgin  pure. 

The  bitter  Cross  unto. 

Who  hast  a  Name,  and  hast  a  Power, 

The  height  and  depth  to  sway. 
And  Angels  bow,  and  devils  cower, 

In  transport  or  dismay  ; 


1 70  AD  VENT-  MA  TINS. 

Thou  too  shalt  be  our  Judge  at  length  ; 

Lord,  in  Thy  grace  bestow 
Thy  weapons  of  celestial  strength, 

And  snatch  us  from  the  foe. 

Honor  and  glory,  power  and  praise, 

To  Father,  and  to  Son, 
And  Holy  Ghost,  be  paid  always, 

The  Eternal  Three  in  One. 


ADVENT— MATINS. 

Verbum  supernum  prodiens. 

Supernal  Word,  proceeding  from 
The  Eternal  Father's  breast, 

And  in  the  end  of  ages  come, 
To  aid  a  world  distrest ; 

Enlighten,  Lord,  and  set  on  fire 
Our  spirits  with  Thy  love, 

That,  dead  to  earth,  they  may  aspire 
And  live  to  joys  above. 


ADVENT— LAUDS.  171 

That,  when  the  judgment-seat  on  high 

Shall  hx  the  sinners  d<  om, 
And  to  the  just  a  glad  ?<  ice  cry, 
your  destined  home  ; 

fr<  >m  the  black  and  yawning  lake 

Of  restless,  endless  pain. 
We  may  the  lace  of  God  partake, 

The  bliss  of  heaven  attain. 

To  God  the  Father,  God  the  Son. 
And  Holy  Ghost,  to  Thee. 

retofore,  when  time  is  done, 
Unending  glory  be. 


ADVENT— LAUDS. 

En  clara  vox  redarguit. 

Hark,  a  joyful  thrilling, 

And  each  dim  and  winding  way 
Of  the  ancient  Temple  filling  ; 
Dreams,  depart  !  for  it  is  day. 


I  7 2  AD  VENT— LA  CDS. 

Christ  is  coming  ! — from  thy  bed, 

Earth-bound  soul,  awake  and  spring,- 

With  the  sun  new-risen  to  shed 
Health  on  human  suffering. 

Lo  !  to  grant  a  pardon  free, 

Comes  a  willing  Lamb  from  Eleaven  ; 
Sad  and  tearful,  hasten  we, 

One  and  all,  to  be  forgiven. 

Once  again  He  comes  in  light, 
Girding  earth  with  fear  and  woe  ; 

Lord  !  be  Thou  our  loving  Might, 
From  our  guilt  and  ghostly  foe. 

To  the  Father,  and  the  Son, 
And  the  Spirit,  who  in  Heaven 

Ever  witness,  Three  and  One, 
Praise  on  earth  be  ever  given, 


THE    TRANSFIGURATION— MATINS.  IJ3 
THE  TRANSFIGURATION— MATINS 

Quicunque  Christum  quaeritis. 

O  ye  who  seek  the  Lord, 

Lift  up  your  eves  on  high, 
For  there  He  doth  the  Sign  accord 

Of  His  bright  majesty. 

We  see  a  dazzling  sight 

That  shall  outlive  all  time, 
Older  than  depth  or  starry  height, 

Limitless  and  sublime. 

Tis  He  for  Israel's  fold 

And  heathen  tribes  decreed, 
The  King  to  Abraham  pledged  of  old 

And  his  unfailing  seed. 

Prophets  foretold  His  birth, 
And  witness'd  when  He  came, 

The  Father  speaks  to  all  the  earth 
To  hear,  and  own  His  name. 


A 


174     THE    TRANSFIGURATION— LAUDS, 

To  Jesus,  who  displays 

To  babes  His  beaming  face, 

Be,  with  the  Father,  endless  praise, 
And  with  the  Spirit  of  grace.     Amen. 


THE    TRANSFIGURATION— LAUDS, 

Lux  alma  Jesu. 

Light  of  the  anxious  heart, 

Jesu,  Thou  dost  appear, 
To  bid  the  gloom  of  guilt  depart, 

And  shed  Thy  sweetness  here. 

Joyous  is  he,  with  whom, 
God's  Word.  Thou  dost  abide  ; 

Sweet  Light  of  our  eternal  home, 
To  fleshly  sense  denied. 

Brightness  of  God  above  ! 

Unfathomable  grace  ! 
Thy  Presence  be  a  fount  of  love 

Within  Thy  chosen  place. 


FOR   A    MARTYR.  1 75 

To  Thee,  whom  children  see, 

The  Father  ever  blest, 
The  Holy  Spirit,  One  and  Three, 

Be  endless  praise  addressed.      Amen. 


FOR  A  MARTYR. 

Deus  tuorum  militum. 

O  god,  of  Thy  soldiers 

the  Portion  and  Crown, 
Spare  Thy  people,  who  hymn 

the  praise  of  the  Blest ; 
Earth's  bitter  joys, 

its  lures  and  its  frown, 
He  scann'd  them  and  scorn'd, 

and  so  is  at  rest. 

Thy  Martyr  he  ran 

all  valiantly  o'er 
A  highway  of  blood 

for  the  prize  Thou  hast  given 
We  kneel  at  Thy  feet, 

and  meekly  implore, 
That  our  pardon  may  wait 

on  his  triumph  in  heaven. 


176  ETHELWALD. 

Honor  and  praise 

To  the  Father  and  Son 
And  the  Spirit  be  done 

Now  and  always.     Amen. 


ETHELWALD. 

(  From  St.  Bede's  Metrical  History  of  St.  Cuthbert.) 

Between  two  comrades  dear, 

Zealous  and  true  as  they, 
Thou,   prudent  Ethelwald,  didst  bear 

In  that  high  home  the  sway. 

A  man,  who  ne'er,  'tis  said, 

Would  of  his  graces  tell, 
Or  with  what  arms  he  triumphed 

Over  the  Dragon  fell. 

So  down  to  us  hath  come 

A  memorable  word, 
Which  in  unguarded  season  from 

His  blessed  lips  was  heard. 


ETHELWALD.  1 77 

It  chanced,  that,  as  the  Saint 

Drank  in  with  faithful  ear 
Of  Angel  tones  the  whispers  faint. 

Thus  spoke  a  brother  dear  : 

"  Oh,  why  so  many  a  pause, 

Thwarting  thy  words'  full  stream, 
Till  her  dark  line  Oblivion  draws 
Across  the  broken  theme  ?  " 

He  answered  :    "Till  thou  seal 
To  sounds  of  earth  thine  ear. 
Sweet  friend,  be  sure  thou  ne'er  shalt  feel 
Angelic  voices  near." 

But  then  the  hermit  blest 
A  sudden  change  came  o'er  ; 
He  shudders,  sobs,  and  smites  his  breast, 
Is  mute,  then  speaks  once  more  : 

"Oh  by  the  Name  Most  High 
What  I  have  now  let  fall, 
Hush,  till  I  lay  me  down  to  die 
And  go  the  way  of  all  !  " 

12 


r  78  CANDLEMAS. 

Thus  did  a  Saint  in  fear 
His  gifts  celestial  hide  ; 
Thus  did  an  Angel  standing  near 
Proclaim  them  far  and  wide. 
Littlemore.  184.4. 


CANDLEMAS. 

(A  Song.) 


The  Angel-lights  of  Christmas  morn, 

Which  shot  across  the  sky, 
Away  they  pass  at  Candlemas, 

They  sparkle  and  they  die. 

Comfort  of  earth  is  brief  at  best, 

Although  it  be  divine  ; 
Like  funeral  lights  for  Christmas  gone, 

Old  Simeon's  tapers  shine. 

And  then  for  eight  long  weeks  and  more, 

We  wait  in  twilight  grey, 
Till  the  high  candle  sheds  a  beam 

On  Holy  Saturday. 


GUARDIAN  AXGEL. 

We  wait  along  the  penance-tide 

Of  solemn  fast  and  prayer  : 
While  song  is  hush'd,  and  lights  grow  dim 

In  the  sin-laden  air. 

And  while  the  sword  in  Mary's  soul 

Is  driven  home,  we  hide 
In  our  own  hearts,  and  count  the  wounds 

Of  passion  and  of  pride. 

And  still,  though  Candlemas  be  spent 

And  Alleluias  o'er, 
Mary  is  music  in  our  need, 

And  Jesus  light  in  store. 

The  Oratory.  184Q. 


GUARDIAN  AXGEL. 

My  oldest  friend,  mine  from  the  hour 
When  first  I  drew  my  breath  ; 

My  faithful  friend,  that  shall  be  mine. 
Unfailing,  till  my  death  : 


]8o  GUARDIAN  ANGEL. 

Thou  hast  been  ever  at  my  side  ; 

My  Maker  to  thy  trust 
Consign'd  my  soul,  what  time  He  framed 

The  infant  child  of  dust. 

No  beating  heart  in  holy  prayer, 

No  faith,  inform 'd  aright, 
Gave  me  to  Joseph's  tutelage, 

Or  Michael's  conquering  might. 

Nor  patron  Saint,  nor  Mary's  love, 

The  dearest  and  the  best, 
Has  known  my  being,  as  thou  hast  known, 

And  blest,  as  thou  hast  blest. 

Thou  wast  my  sponsor  at  the  font ; 

And  thou,  each  budding  year, 
Didst  whisper  elements  of  truth 

Into  my  childish  ear. 

And  when,  ere  boyhood  yet  was  gone, 

My  rebel  spirit  fell, 
Ah  !  thou  didst  see,  and  shudder  too, 

Yet  bear  each  deed  of  Hell. 


GUARDIAN  AXGEL.  181 

And  then  in  turn,  when  judgments  came, 

And  scared  me  back  again. 
Thy  quick  soft  breath  was  near  to  soothe 

And  hallow  even*  pain. 

*  *  vr  * 

And  thou  wilt  hang  about  my  bed, 

When  life  is  ebbing  low  ; 
Of  doubt,  impatience,  and  of  gloom, 
The  jealous,  sleepless  foe. 

Mine,  when  I  stand  before  the  Judge  ; 

And  mine,  if  spared  to  stay 
Within  the  golden  furnace,  till 

My  sin  is  burn'd  away. 

And  mine,  O  Brother  of  my  soul, 
When  my  release  shall  come  ;   * 

Thy  gentle  arms  shall  lift  me  then, 
Thy  wings  shall  waft  me  home. 

The  Oratory.  I^SS- 


182  A   MARTYR   CONVERT. 


A  MARTYR  CONVERT. 

[A  Hymn.) 

The  number  of  Thine  own  complete, 

Sum  up  and  make  an  end  ; 
Sift  clean  the  chaff,  and  house  the  wheat  ; 

And  then,  O  Lord,  descend. 

Descend,  and  solve  by  that  descent 

This  mystery  of  life  ; 
Where  good  and  ill,  together  blent, 

Wage  an  undying  strife. 

For  rivers  twain  are  gushing  still, 

And  pour  a  mingled  flood  ; 
Good  in  the  very  depths  of  ill, 

111  in  the  heart  of  good. 

The  last  are  first,  the  first  are  last, 

As  angel  eyes  behold  ; 
These  from  the  sheep-cote  sternly  cast, 

Those  welcomed  to  the  fold. 


A    MARTYR    CONVERT.  1 83 

No  Christian  home,  no  pastor's  eye, 

No  preacher's  vocal  zeal, 
Moved  Thy  dear  Martyr  to  defy 

The  prison  and  the  wheel. 

Forth  from  the  heathen  ranks  she  stept, 

The  forfeit  crown  to  claim 
Of  Christian  souls  who  had  not  kept 

Their  birthright  and  their  name. 

Grace  form'd  her  out  of  sinful  dust  ; 

She  knelt  a  soul  defiled, 
She  rose  in  all  the  faith,  and  trust, 

And  sweetness  of  a  child. 

And  in  the  freshness  of  that  love     , 
She  preach'd,  by  word  and  deed, 

The  mysteries  of  the  world  above, 
Her  new-found,  glorious  creed. 

And  running,  in  a  little  hour, 

Of  life  the  course  complete, 
She  reach'd  the  Throne  of  endless  power, 

And  sits  at  Jesu's  feet. 


l84  THE    TWO    WORLDS. 

Her  spirit  there,  her  body  here, 
Make  one  the  earth  and  sky  ; 

We  use  her  name,  we  touch  her  bier, 
We  know  her  God  is  nigh. 

Praise  to  the  Father,  as  is  meet, 

Praise  to  the  Only  Son, 
Praise  to  the  Holy  Paraclete 

While  endless  ages  run. 
The  Oratory.  1856. 


THE  TWO  WORLDS. 

Unveil,  O  Lord,  and  on  us  shine 

In  glory  and  in  grace  ; 
This  gaudy  world  grows  pale  before 

The  beauty  of  Thy  face. 

Till  Thou  art  seen,  it  seems  to  be 

A  sort  of  fairy  ground, 
Where  suns  unsetting  light  the  sky, 

And  flowers  and  fruits  abound. 


THE    TWO    WORLDS.  is5 

But  when  Thy  keener,  purer  beam 

Is  pour'd  upon  our  sight. 
It  loses  all  its  power  to  charm, 

And  what  was  day  is  night. 


Its  noblest  toils  are  then  the  scourge 
Which  made  Thy  blood  to  flow  . 

Its  joys  are  but  the  treacherous  thorns 
Which  circled  round  Thy  brow. 

And  thus,  when  we  renounce  for  Thee 

Its  restless  aims  and  fears. 
The  tender  memories  of  the  past, 

The  hopes  of  coming  years, 

Poor  is  our  sacrifice,  whose  eyes    i 

Are  lighted  from  above  ; 
We  offer  what  we  cannot  keep, 

What  we  have  ceased  to  love. 

The  Oratory.  1862. 


1 86  ST.   MICHAEL. 


ST.  MICHAEL. 

(A  H\mn.) 

Thou  champion  high 
Of  Heaven's  imperial  Bride, 
For  ever  waiting  on  her  eye, 
Before  her  onward  path,  and  at  her  side, 
In  war  her  guard  secure,  by  night  her  ready 
guide  ! 

To  thee  was  given, 
When  those  false  angels  rose 
Against  the  Majesty  of  Heaven, 
To  hurl  them  down  the  steep,  and  on  them 
close 
The  prison  where  they  roam  in  helpless  unre- 
pose. 

Thee,  Michael,  thee, 
When  sight  and  breathing  fail, 
The  disembodied  soul  shall  see  ; 


THE   DREAM  OE  GERONTIUS.        1S7 

The  pardon'd  soul  with    solemn   joy    shall 
hail, 
When  holiest  rites  are  spent,   and    tears    no 
more  avail. 

And  thou,  at  last, 
When  Time  itself  must  die, 
Shalt  sound  that  dread  and  piercing  blast, 
To  wake  the  dead,  and  rend  the  vaulted  sky, 
And  summon    all    to    meet    the    Omniscient 
Judge  on  high. 

T)u  Oratory.  1862. 


THE  DREAM  OF  GERONTIUS. 

§  I- 

Geroxtius. 
Jksu,  Maria — I  am  near  to  death. 
And  Thou  art  calling  me  ;  I  know  it  now. 
X<  A  by  the  token  of  this  faltering  breath, 
This  chill    at    heart,    this   dampness  on  my 
brow, — 


1 88      THE   DREAM  OE  GERONTIUS. 

'Tis  this  new  feeling,  never  felt  before, 
(Be  with  me,  Lord,  in  my  extremity  !) 
That  I  am  going,  that  I  am  no  more. 
Tis  this  strange  innermost  abandonment, 
(Lover  of  souls  !  great  God  !  I  look  to  Thee, ) 
This  emptying  out  of  each  constituent 
And  natural  force,  by  which  I  come  to  be. 
Pray  for  me,  O  my  friends  ;  a  visitant 
Is  knocking  his  dire  summons  at  my  door, 
The  like  of  whom,  to  scare  me  and  to  daunt, 
Has  never,  never  come  to  me  before  ; 
'Tis  death, — O  loving  friends,  your   prayers  ! 

— 'tis  he  !  .  .  . 
As  though  my  very  being  had  given  way, 
As  though  I  was  no  more  a  substance  now, 
And  could  fall  back  on  nought  to  be  my  stay, 
(Help,  loving  Lord  !     Thou  my  sole  Refuge, 

Thou, ) 
And  turn  no  whither,  but  must  needs  decay 
And  drop  from  out  the  universal  frame 
Into  that  shapeless,  scopeless,  blank  abyss, 
That  utter  nothingness,  of  which  I  came  : 
This  is  it  that  has  come  to  pass  in  me  ; 


THE   DREAM  OF  GERONTIUS.     189 

Oh,  horror  !  this  it  is,  my  dearest,  this  ; 
So  pray  for  me,  my    friends,   who  have    not 
strength  to  pray. 

Assistants. 
Kyrie  elei'son,  Christe  elei'son,  Kyrie   elei'son. 

*  £  ♦  ♦  ♦ 

Gerontius. 

Rouse  thee,   my  fainting  soul,  and  play  the 
man  ; 

And  through  such  waning  span 
Of  life  and  thought  as  still  has  to  be  trod, 

Prepare  to  meet  thy  God. 
And  while  the  storm  of  that  bewilderment 

Is  for  a  season  spent, 
And,  ere  afresh  the  ruin  on  me  fall, 

Use  well  the  interval. 

Assistants. 

Be  merciful,  be  gracious  ;    spare  him,  Lord. 
Be  merciful,  be  gracious  ;  Lord,  deliver  him. 
From  the  sins  that  are  past  ; 

From  Thv  frown  and  Thine  ire  ; 


190      THE  DREAM  OF  GERONTIUS. 

From  the  perils  of  dying  ; 

From  any  complying 

With  sin,  or  denying 

His  God,  or  relying 
On  self,  at  the  last  ; 

From  the  nethermost  fire  ; 
From  all  that  is  evil  ; 
From  power  of  the  devil  ; 
Thy  servant  deliver, 
For  once  and  for  ever. 

By  Thy  birth,  and  by  Thy  Cross, 

Rescue  him  from  endless  loss  : 

By  Thy  death  and  burial, 

Save  him  from  a  final  fall  ; 

By  Thy  rising  from  the  tomb, 
By  Thy  mounting  up  above, 
By  the  Spirits  gracious  love, 

Save  him  in  the  day  of  doom. 

Gerontius. 

Sanctus  fortis,  Sanctus  Deus, 

De  profundis  oro  te, 
Miserere,  Judex  meus, 

Parce  mihi,  Domine. 


THE  DREAM  OF  GERONTIU*  ,        191 

Firmly  I  believe  and  truly 

God  is  Three,  and  God  is  One  ; 
And  I  next  acknowledge  duly 

Manhood  taken  by  the  S 
And  I  trust  and  hope  most  fully 

In  that  manhood   crucified  : 
And  each  thought  and  deed  unruly 

Do  to  death,  as  He  has  died. 
Simply  to  His  grace  and  wholly 

Light  and  life  and  strength  belong; 
And  I  love,  supremely,  solely. 

Him  the  holy.  Him  the  strong. 
Sanctus  fortis,  Sanctus  Deus, 

De  profundis  oro  te. 
Miserere,  Judex  meus,  % 

Parce  mihi.  Domine. 
And  I  hold  in  veneration. 

For  the  love  of  Him  alone. 
Holy  Church,  as  His  creation, 

And  her  teachings,  as  His  own. 
And  I  take  with  joy  whatever 

Now  besets  me,  pain  or  fear, 
And  with  a  strong  will  I  sever 

All  the  ties  which  bind  me  here. 


192       THE  DREAM  OF  GERONTIUS. 

Adoration  aye  be  given, 

With  and  through  the  angelic  host, 
To  the  God  of  earth  and  heaven, 

Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost. 
Sanctus  fortis,  Sanctus  Deus, 

De  profundis  oro  te, 
Miserere,  Judex  meus, 

Mortis  in  discrimine. 


I  can  no  more  ;  for  now  it  comes  again, 

That  sense  of  ruin,  which  is  worse  than  pain, 

That  masterful  negation  and  collapse 

Of  all  that  makes  me  man  ;  as  though  I  bent 

Over  the  dizzy  brink 

Of  some  sheer  infinite  descent  ; 

Or  worse,  as  though 

Down,  down  for  ever  I  was  falling  through 

The  solid  framework  of  created  things, 

And  needs  must  sink  and  sink 

Into  the  vast  abyss.     And,  crueller  still, 

A  fierce  and  restless  fright  begins  to  fill 

The  mansion  of  my  soul.       And,  worse   and 

worse, 
r>ome  bodily  form  of  ill 


THE  DREAM   OF  GERONTIUS.      193 

Floats  on  the  wind,  with  many    a    loathsome 

curse 
Tainting    the  hallow'd  air,   and  laughs,    and 

flaps 
Its  hideous  wings, 
And  makes  me  wild  with  horror  and  dismay. 


Assistants. 

Rescue  him,  0  Lord,  in  this  his  evil  hour, 

As  of  old  so  many  by  Thy  gracious  power  : — 
(Amen.) 

Enoch  and  Elias  from  the  common  doom  ; 
(Amen. ) 

Xoe    from    the    waters    in    a    saving  home  ; 
(Amen.) 

Abraham  from  th"   abounding  guilt  of  Hea- 
thenesse ;   (Amen.) 

Job  from  all  his  multiform  and  fell  distress  ; 
(Amen. ) 

Issac,  when  his    father's    knife  was  raised  to 
slay  ;    (Amen. ) 

Lot    from  burning  Sodom  on  its  judgment- 
day  ;   (Amen.) 
13 


194       THE   DREAM  OF  GERONTIUS. 

Moses  from    the  land  of  bondage    and  des- 
pair :   (Amen  ) 

Daniel  from   the  hungry  lions  in  their  lair; 
(Amen. ) 

And  the  Children    Three  amid  the  furnace- 
flame  ;    (Amen.) 

Chaste    Susanna    from    the    slander   and  the 
shame;   (Amen.) 

David    from    Golia    and  the  wrath  of  Saul  ; 
(Amen. ) 

And  the  two  Apostles  from  their  prison-thrall  ; 
(Amen.) 

Thecla  from  her  torments  ;   (Amen.) 

— so  to  show  Thy  power, 

Rescue  this  Thy  servant  in  his  evil  hour. 

Gerontius, 

Xovissima  hora  est  ;  and  I  fain  would  sleep. 
The   pain  has  wearied  me.    .    .    .    Into    Thy 

hands, 
O  Lord,  into  Thy  hands  .... 

The  Priest. 

Proficiscere,  anima  Christiana,  dehocmundo! 
Go  forth  upon  thy  journey,  Christian  soul  ! 


THE  DREAM  OF  GERONTIUS.      I9J 

Go  from  this  world  !     Go,   in  the  Name  of 
God 

The  Omnipotent  Father,  who  created  thee  ! 
(  j.  ».  in  the  Name  of  Jesus  Christ,  our  Lord, 
Son  of  the  living  God,  who  bled  for  thee  ! 
Go,  in  the  Name  of  the  Holy  Spirit  who 
Hath  been  pour'd  out  on  thee  !       Go,  in  the 

name 
Of  Angels  and  Archangels  ;  in  the  name 
Of  Thrones  and  Dominations  ;   in  the  name 
Of  Princedoms  and  of  Powers;  and  in  the  name 
Of  Cherubim  and  Seraphim,  go  forth  ! 
Go,  in  the  name  of  Patriarchs  and  ,Prophets  ; 
And  of  Apostles  and  Evangelists, 
<  ):  Martyrs  and  Confessors  ;  in  the  name 
Of  holy  Monks  and  Hermits  :  in  the  name 
Of  holy  Virgins  :  and  all  Saints  of  God, 
Both   men   and    women,  go  !     Go    on    thy 

course  : 
And  may  thy  place  to-day  be  found  in  peace 
And  may  thy  dwelling  be  the  Holy  Mount 
Of  Zion  .-—through  the  Name  of  Christ,  our 
Lord, 


196      THE  DREAM  OF  GERONTIl'S. 

§    2- 

Soul  of  Geroxtius. 

I  went  to  sleep  :   and  now  I  am  refresh 'd, 

A  strange  refreshment  :  for  I  feel  in  me 

An  inexpressive  lightness,  and  a  sense 

Of  freedom,  as  I  were  at  length  myself. 

And  ne'er  had  been  before.      How  still  it  is  ! 

I  hear  no  more  the  busy  beat  of  time, 

No,  nor  my  fluttering  breath,  nor  struggling 

pulse  ; 
Nor  does  one  moment  differ  from  the  next. 
I  had  a  dream  ;  yes  : — some  one  softly  said 
"  He's  gone  ;  "  and  then    a  sigh  went  round 

the  room. 
And  then  I  surely  heard  a  priestly  voice 
Cry  ' '  Subvenite  ;  n  and  they  knelt  in  prayer. 
I  seem  to  hear  him  still  ;    but   thin  and   low, 
And  fainter  and  more  feint  the  accents  come, 
As  at  an  ever-widening  interval. 
Ah  !    whence   is  this  ?     What  is  this   sever- 
ance ? 
This  silence  pours  a  solitariness 
Into  the  very  essence  of  mv  soul  : 


THE  DREAM   OF  CEROXTIi'S.       1 97 

And  the  deep  rest,  so  soothing  and  s  1  sweet, 

Hath  something  too  of  sternness  and  of  pain. 
For   it  drives  back   my  thoughts   upon   their 

spring 
By  a  strange  introversion,  and  perforce 
1  now  begin  to  feed  upon  myself. 
Because  I  have  nought  else  to  feed  upon. 

Am  I  alive  or  dead  ?     I  am  not  dead, 

But  in  the  body  still  ;    for  I  possess 

A  sort  of  confidence  which  clings  to  me. 

That  each  particular  organ  holds  its  place 

As  heretofore,  combining  with  the  rest 

Into  one  symmetry,  that  wraps  me  round, 

And  makes  me  man;  and  surely  I  could  move, 

Did  1  but  will  it.  every  part  of  me. 

And  yet  I  cannot  to  my  sense  bring  home 

By  very  trial,  that  I  have  the  power. 

Tis  strange  ;  I  cannot  stir  a  hand  or  foot, 

I  cannot  make  my  fingers  or  my  lips 

By  mutual  pressure  witness  each  to  each, 

Nor  by  the  eyelids  instantaneous  stroke 

Assure  myself  I  have  a  body  still. 

Nor  do  I  know  my  very  attitude, 

Nor  if  I  stand,  or  lie,  or  sit,  or  kneel. 


198     THE  DREAM  OF  GERONTIUS. 

So  much  I  know,  not  knowing  how  I  know, 
That  the  vast  universe,  where  I  have  dwelt, 
Is  quitting  me,  or  I  am  quitting  it. 
Or  I  or  it  is  rushing  on  the  wings 
Of  light  or  lightning  on  an  onward  course, 
And  we  e'en  now  are  million  miles  apart, 
Yet  ...    is  this  peremptory  severance 
Wrought  out  in  lengthening  measurements  of 

space, 
Which  grow  and  multiply  by  speed  and  time  ? 
Or  am  I  traversing  infinity 
By  endless  subdivision,  hurrying  back 
From  finite  towards  infinitesimal, 
Thus  dying  out  of  the  expansive  world  ? 

Another  mar/el  :  some  one  has  me  fast 
Within  his  ample  palm  ;    'tis  not  a  grasp 
Such  as  they  use  on  earth,  but  all  around 
Over  the  surface  of  my  subtle  being, 
As  though  I  were  a  sphere,  and  capable 
To  be  accosted  thus,  a  uniform 
And  gentle  pressure  tells  me  I  am  not 
Self-moving,  but  borne  forward  on  my  way 
And  hark  !  I  hear  a  singing  ;  yet  in  sooth 
I  cannot  of  that  music  rightlv  sav 


THE  DREAM  OF  GERONTIUS.     igi> 

Whether  1  hear,  or  touch,  or  taste  the  tones 
Oh,  what  a  heart-subduing  melody  ! 

Angel. 

My  work  is  done. 
My  task  is  o'er, 

And  so  I  come, 

Taking  it  home, 
For  the  crown  is  won, 

Alleluia, 

For  evermore. 

i 

My  Father  gave 
In  charge  to  me 

This  child  of  earth 

E'en  from  its  birth. 
To  serve  and  save, 

Alleluia, 
And  saved  is  he. 

This  child  of  clay 
To  me  was  given. 
To  rear  and  train 
By  sorrow  and  pain 


J 


200       THE  DREAM  OF  GERONTIUS. 

In  the  narrow  way, 

Alleluia. 
From  earth  to  heaven. 

Soul. 

It  is  a  member  of  that  family 

Of  wondrous    beings,    who,   ere    the  worlds 

weie  made, 
Millions  of  ages  back,  have  stood  around 
The   throne  of  God  : — he  never    has  known 

sin  ; 
Bui  through  those  cycles  all  but  infinite, 
Has  had  a  strong  and  pure  celestial  life, 
And  bore  to  gaze  on  the  unveil'd  face  of  God, 
And   drank   from    the    everlasting  Fount  of 

truth, 
And  served  Him  with  a  keen  ecstatic  love. 
Hark  !  he  begins  again. 

Angel. 

O  Lord,  how  wonderful  in  depth  and  height, 
But  most  in  man,  how  wonderful  Thou  art ! 
With  what  a  love,  what  soft  persuasive  might 
Victorious  o'er  the   stubborn  fleshly  heart, 


THE  DREAM  OF  GERONTIUS.      201 

Thy  tale  complete  of  saints  Thou'  dost  pro- 
vide, 

To  fill  the  throne  which  angels  lost  through 
pride  ! 

He  lay  a  grovelling  babe    upon   the  ground, 
Polluted  in  the  blood  of  his  first  sire, 
With   his  whole    essence    shatterd  and    un- 
sound, 
And  coil'd  around  his  heart  a  demon  dire, 
Which  was    not   of  his  nature,  but  had  skill 
To  bind   and   form  his   op'ning  mind  to  ill. 

Then  was  I  sent  from  heaven  to  set  right 
The  balance  in  his  soul  of  truth  and  sin, 

And  I  have  waged  a  long  relentless  fight. 
Resolved  that  death-environ  d  spirit  to  win, 

Which  from  its  fallen  state,  when  all  was  lost, 

Had  been  repurchased  at  so  dread  a  cost. 

Oh,  what  a  shifting  parti-color'd  scene 

Of  hope  and  fear,  of  triumph  and  dismay, 

Of  recklessness  and  penitence,  has  been 
The  history  of  that  dreary,  life-long  fray  ! 

And  oh,  the  grace  to  nerve  him  and  to  lead, 

How  patient,  prompt,  and  lavish  at  his  need ! 


202        THE  DREAM  OF  GERONTIUS. 

0  man,   strange    composite    oi    neaven    and 

earth  ! 
Majesty  dwarf  d  to  baseness  !  fragrant  flower 
Running   to   poisonous   seed  !    and  seeming 
worth 
Cloking   corruption  !    weakness    mastering 
power  ! 
Who  never  art  so  near  to  crime  and  shame, 
As  when  thou  hast  achieved  some  deed    of 
name  ; — 

How  should  ethereal  natures  comorehend 

A  thing  made  up  of  spirit  and  of  clay, 
Were  we  not  task'd  to  nurse  it  and  to  tend, 
Link'd  one  to  one  throughout  its  mortal 
day  ? 
More  than  the  Seraph  in  his  height  of  place, 
The  Angel-guardian  knows  and  loves  the  ran- 
som'd  race. 

Soul, 

Now  know  I  surely  that  I  am  at  length 
Out  of  the  body  ;    had  I  part  with  earth, 

1  never  could  have  drunk  those  accents  in, 
And  not  have  worshipp'd  as  a  god  the  voice 


THE  DREAM  OF  GERONT1US.      203 

That  was  so  musical  :   but  now  I  am 

whole  o\  heart,  so  calm,  so  self-possess'd, 
With  such  a  full  content,  and  with  a  sense 
So  apprehensive  and  discriminant, 
As  no  temptation  can  intoxicate. 
Nor  have  I  even  terror  at  the  thought 
That  I  am  clasp'd  by  such  a  saintliness. 

Angel. 
All  praise  to  Him,  at  whose  sublime  decree 

The  last  are  first,  the  first  become  the  last  ; 
By  whom  the  suppliant  prisoner  is  set  free, 
By    whom    proud    first-borns    from     their 
thrones  are  cast. 


§   3- 
Soul. 

I  will  address  him.      Mighty  one,  my  Lord, 
My  Guardian  Spirit,  all  hail ! 

AXGEL. 

All  hail,  my  child  ! 
My  child  and  brother,   hail  !  what  wouldest 
thou  ? 


204       THE  DREAM  OF  GERONTIUS. 

Soul. 

I  would  have  nothing  but  to  speak  with  thee 
For  speaking's  sake.  I  wish  to  hold  with  thee 
Conscious  communion  ;  though  I  fain  would 

know 
A  maze  of  things,  were  it  but  meet  to  ask, 
And  not  a  curiousness. 

Ax  GEL. 

You  cannot  now 
Cherish  a  wish  which  ought  not  to  be  wish'd. 

Soul. 

Then  I  will  speak.      I  ever  had  believed 
That  on  the  moment  when  the  struggling  soul 
Quitted  its  mortal  case,  forthwith  it  fell 
Under  the  awful  Presence  of  its  God, 
There  to  be  judged  and  sent  to  its  own  place. 
What  lets  me  now  from  going  to  my  Lord  > 

Angel. 

Thou  art  not  let  :  but  with  extremest  speed 
Art  hurrying  to  the.  Just  and  Holy  Judge  : 


THE   DREAM   OF   GEROXTIIS.       205 

For  scarcely  art  thou  disembodied  vet. 
Divide  a  moment,  as  men  measure  time, 
Into  its  million-million-millionth  part. 
Yet  even  less  than  that  the  interval 
Since  thou  didst  leave  the  body  :  and  the  priest 
Cried  4i  Subvenite, "  and  they  fell  to  prayer  : 
Nay,  scarcely  yet  have  they  begun  to  pray. 

For  spirits  and  men  by  different  standards  mete 
The  less  and  greater  in  the  flow  of  time. 
By  sun  and  moon,  primeval  ordinances — 
By  stars  which  rise  and  set  harmoniously — 
By  the  recurring  seasons,  and  the  swing, 
This  way  and  that,  of  the  suspended  rod 
Precise  and  punctual,  men  divide  the  hours, 
Equal,  continuous,  for  their  common  use. 

Not  so  with  us  in  the  immaterial  world  ; 
But  intervals  in  their  succession 
Are  measured  by  the  living  thought  alone 
And  grow  or  wane  with  its  intensity. 
And  time  is  not  a  common  property  ; 
But  what  is  long  is  short,  and  swift  is  slow. 
And  near  is  distant,  as  received  and  grasp'd 
Bv  this  mind  and  bv  that,  and  every  one 


206      THE  DREAM  OF  GERONTIUS. 

Is  standard  of  his  own  chronology. 

And  memory  lacks  its  natural  resting-points 

Of  years,  and  centuries,  and  periods. 

It  is  thy  very  energy  of  thought 

Which  keeps  thee  from  thy  God. 

Soul. 

Dear  Angel,  say, 
Why  have  I  now  no  fear  at  meeting  Him  ? 
Along  my  earthly  life,  the  thought  of  death 
And  judgment  was  to  me  most  terrible. 
I  had  it  aye  before  me,  and  I  saw 
The  Judge  severe  e'en  in  the  Crucifix. 
Now  tjiat  the  hour  is  come,  my  fear  is  fled  ; 
And  at  this  balance  of  my  destiny, 
Now  close  upon  me,  I  can  forward  look 
With  a  serenest  joy. 

Angel. 

It  is  because 
Then  thou  didst  fear,  that  now  thou  dost  not 

fear, 
Thou  hast  forestall'd  the  agony,  and  so 
For  thee  the  bitterness  of  death  is  past 


THE  DREAM  OF  GERONTIi'S.     207 

Also,  because  already  in  thy  soul 

The  judgment  is  begun.      That  day  of  doom, 

One  and  the  same  for  the  collected  world — 

That  solemn  consummation  for  all  flesh, 

Is.  in  the  case  of  each,  anticipate 

Upon  his  death  ;  and,  as  the  last  great  day 

In  the  particular  judgment  is  rehearsed. 

So  now,  too,  ere  thou  comest  to  the  Throne, 

A  presage  falls  upon  thee,  as  a  ray 

Straight  from  the  Judge,  expressive  of  thy  lot. 

That  calm  and  joy  uprising  in  thy  soul 

Is  tirst-fruit  to  thee  of  thy  recompense, 

And  heaven  begun. 

§  4. 

Soul. 
But  hark  !  upon  my  sense 
Comes  a  fierce  hubbub,  which  would  make 

me  fear, 
Could  I  be  frighted. 

Angel. 
We  are  now  arrived 
Close  on  the  judgment-court  :  that  sullen  howl 
Is  from  the  demons  who  assemble  there. 


j 


208     THE  DREAM  OF  GERONTIUS. 

It  is  the  middle  region,  where  of  old 
Satan  appeared  among  the  sons  of  God, 
To  cast  his  jibes  and  scoffs  at  holy  Job. 
So  now  his  legions  throng  the  vestibule, 
Hungry  and  wild,  to  claim  their  property, 
And  gather  souls  for  hell.      Hist  to  their  cry, 

Soul. 
How  sour  and  how  uncouth  a  dissonance  ! 

Demons. 

Low-born  clods 
Of  brute  earth, 
They  aspire 
To  become  gods, 
By  a  new  birth, 
And  an  extra  grace, 
And  a  score  of  merits, 
As  if  aught 
Could  stand  in  place 

Of  the  high  thought, 
And  the  glance  of  fire 
Of  the  great  spirits, 
The  powers  blest, 


The  dream  of  geaontius.    209 

The  lords  by  right, 
The  primal  owners, 
Of  the  proud  dwelling 
And  realm  of  light, — 
Dispossess'd, 
Aside  thrust, 

Chuck'd  down 
By  the  sheer  might 
Of  a  despots  will, 

Of  a  tyrant's  frown, 
Who  after  expelling 
Their  hosts,  gave, 
Triumphant  still, 
And  still  unjust. 

Each  forfeit  crown 
To  psalm-droners, 
And  canting  groan  ers. 

To  every  slave, 
And  pious  cheat, 

And  crawling  knave; 
Who  lick'd  the  dust 
Under  his  feet. 


14 


2IO      THE  DREAM    OF  GERONTIUS. 

Angel. 

It  is  the  restless  panting  of  their  being  ; 
Like  beasts  of  prey,  who,  caged  within    their 

bars, 
In  a  deep  hideous  purring  have  their  life, 
And  an  incessant  pacing  to  and  fro. 

*  *  *  * 

Soul. 

How  impotent  they  are  !  and  yet  on  earth 
They  have  repute   for   wondrous   power   and 

skill ; 
And  books  describe,  how  that  the  very  face 
Of  the  Evil  One,  if  seen,  would  have  a  force 
Even  to  freeze  the  blood,  and  choke  the  life 
Of  him  who  saw  it. 

Angel. 

In  thy  trial- state 
Thou  hadst  a  traitor  nestling  close  at  home, 
Connatural,  who  with  the  powers  of  hell 
Was  leagued,  and  of  Thy  senses  kept  the  keys, 
And  to  that  deadliest  foe  unlock'd  thy  heart. 
And  therefore  is  it,  in  respect  of  man, 


Vs 


THE  DREAM  OF  GERONTIUS,     211 

Those  fallen  ones  show  so  majestical. 

But,  when  some  child  of  grace,  Angel  or  Saint, 

Pure  and  upright  in  his  integrity 

Of  nature,  meets  the  demons  on  their  raid, 

They  scud  away  as  cowards  from  the  fight. 

Nay,  oft  hath  holy  hermit  in  his  cell, 

Not  yet  disburden  *d  of  mortality, 

Mock'd  at  their  threats  and  warlike  overtures  ; 

Or,    dying,    when    they    swarm 'd    like    flies, 

around, 
Defied  them,  and  departed  to  his  Judge. 


Demons. 

Virtue  and  vice, 

A  knave's  pretence, 
Tis  all  the  same  ; 
Ha  !  ha  ! 

Dread  of  hell-fire, 
Of  the  venomous  flame, 
A  coward's  plea. 
Give  him  his  price, 

Saint  though  he  be, 
Ha  !  ha  ! 


2  12        THE  DREAM  OF  GEROXTIUS. 

From  shrewd  good  sense 

He'll  slave  for  hire  ; 
Ha  !  ha ! 

And  does  but  aspire 
To  the  heaven  above 

With  sordid  aim, 
And  not  from  love. 

Ha  !  ha  1 


Soul. 

I  see  not  those  false  spirits  ;  shall  I  see 
My  dearest  Master,  when  I  reach  His  throne? 
Or  hear,  at  least,  His  awful  judgment- word 
With  personal  intonation,  as  I  now 
Hear  thee,  not  see  thee,  Angel  ?     Hitherto 
All  has  been  darkness  since  I  left  the  earth  ; 
Shall  I  remain  thus  sight-bereft  all  through 
My  penance-time  ?     It  so,  how  comes  it  then 
That  I  am  hearing  still,  and  taste,  and  touch, 
Yet  not  a  glimmer  of  that  princely  sense 
Which  binds  ideas  in  one,  and    makes   them 
live  ? 


THE  DREAM  OF  GERONTIUS.      213 

AXGEL.  - 

Nor  touch,  nor  taste,  nor    hearing    hast    thou 

now  ; 
Thou  livest  in  a  world  of  signs  and  types, 
The  presentations  of  most  holy  truths. 
Living  and  strong,  which  now  encompass  thee. 
A  disembodied  soul,  thou  hast  by  right 
No  converse  with  aught  beside  thyself; 
But,  lest  so  stern  a  solitude  should  load 
And  break  thy  being,  in  mercy  are  vouchsafed 
Some  lower  measures  of  perception, 
Which  seem  to  thee,  as  though  through  chan- 
nels brought, 
Through  ear,  or  nerves,  or  palate,  which  are 

gone. 
And  thou  art  wrapp'd  and  swathed  around    in 

dreams, 
Dreams  that  are  true,  yet  enigmatical : 
For  the  belongings  of  thy  present  state, 
Save  through  such  symbols,  come   not    home 

to  thee. 
And  thus  thou  tell'st  of  space,  and  time,  and 

size. 
Of  fragrant,  solid,  bitter,  musical, 


214       THE  DREAM  OF  GERONTIUS. 

Of  fire,  and  of  refreshment  after  fire  ■ 
As  (let  me  use  similitude  of  earth, 
To  aid  thee  in  the  knowledge  thou  dost  ask), 
As  ice  which  blisters  may  be  said  to  burn. 
Nor  hast  thou  now  extension,  with  its  parts 
Correlative, — long  habit  cozens  thee, — 
Xor  power  to  move  thyself,  nor  limbs  to  move. 
Hast  thou  not  heard  of  those,  who  after  loss 
Of  hand  or    foot,    still    cried    that  they   had 

pains 
In  hand  or  foot,  as  though  they  had  it  still  ? 
So  is  it  now  with  thee,  who  hast  not  lost 
Thy  hand  or   foot,  but   all   which   made   up 

man. 
So  will  it  be,  until  the  joyous  day 
Of  resurrection,  when  thou  wilt  regain 
All  thou  hast  lost,  new-made  and  glorified. 
How,  even  now,  the  consummated  Saints 
See  God  in  heaven,  I  may  not  explicate  ; 
Meanwhile,  let  it  suffice  thee  to  possess 
Such  means  of  converse  as  are  granted  thee, 
Though,  till  that    Beatific   Vision,    thou    art 

blind. 


THE   DREAM  OE   GEROXTIUS.       215 

;  l. 

His  will  be  done  ! 
I  am  not  worthy  ere  to  see  again 
The  face  of  day  ;   far  less  His  countenance. 
Who  is  the  very  sun.      ****** 

Angel. 

Yes, — for  one    moment    thou    shalt    see   thy 

Lord. 
Thus  will  it  be  :  what  time  thou  art  arraign'd 
Before  the  dread  tribunal,  and  thy  lot 

5t  for  ever,  should  it  be  to  sit 
On  His  right  hand  among  His  pure  elect. 
Then  sight,  or  that  which  to  the  soul  is  sight, 
As  by  a  lightning- flash,  will  come  to  thee. 
And  thou  shalt  see,  amid  the  dark  profound, 
Whom  thy  soul  loveth    and    would    fain    ap- 
proach,— 
One    moment ;    but    thou    knowest    not,  my 

child, 
What  thou  dost  ask  ;    that  sight  of  the    Most 

Fair 
Will  gladden  thee,    but  it  will  pierce  thee  too. 


216       THE  DREAM  OF  GERONTIUS. 

Soul. 

Thou  speakest  darkly,  Angel  ;  and  an  awe 
Falls  on  me,  and  a  fear  lest  I  be  rash. 

Angel. 

There  was  a  mortal,  who  is  now  above 
In  the  mid  glory  :  he,  when  near  to  die, 
Was  given  communion  with  the   Crucified, — 
Such,    that    the   Master's  very  wounds  were 

stamp'd 
Upon  his  flesh  ;  and,  from  the  agony 
Which  thrill'd  through  body  and  soul  in  that 

embrace, 
Learn  that  the  flame  of  the  Everlasting    Love 
Doth  burn  ere  it  transform. 

§  5- 

.   .   .    Hark  to  those  sounds  ! 
They  come  of  tender  beings  angelical, 
Least  and  most  childlike  of  the  sons  of  God. 


THE  DREAM   OF  GERONTIUS.       21 7 

First  Choir  of  Angelicals. 

Praise  to  the  Holiest  in  the  height, 

And  in  the  depth  be  praise  ; 
In  all  His  words  most  wonderful  ; 

Most  sure  in  all  His  ways  ! 

To  us  His  elder  race  He  gave 

To  battle  and  to  win. 
Without  the  chastisement  of  pain, 

Without  the  soil  of  sin. 

The  younger  son  He  will'd  to  be 

A  marvel  in  His  birth  : 
Spirit  and  flesh  his  parents  were  ; 
His  home  was  heaven  and  earth. 

The  Eternal  bless'd  His  child,  and  arm'd 

And  sent  him  hence  afar, 
To  serve  as  champion  in  the  field 

Of  elemental  war. 

To  be  His  Viceroy  in  the  world 

Of  matter,  and  of  sense  ; 
Upon  the  frontier,  towards  the  foe 

A  resolute  defence. 


2l8      THE  DREAM  OF  GERONTIUS. 

Angel. 

We  now  have  pass'd  the  gate,  and  are  within 
The    House  of  Judgment ;    and  whereas  on 

earth 
Temples  and  palaces  are  form'd  of  parts 
Costly  and  rare,  but  all  material, 
So  in  the  world  of  spirits  nought  is  found, 
To  mould  withal,  and  form  into  a  whole, 
But  what  is  immaterial  ;  and  thus 
The  smallest  portions  of  this  edifice, 
Cornice,  or  frieze,  or  balustrade,  or  stair — 
The  very  pavement  is  made  up  of  life — 
Of  holy,  blessed,  and  immortal  beings, 
Who  hymn  their  Maker's  praise  continually. 

Second  Choir  of  Angelicals. 

Praise  to  the  Holiest  in  the  height, 

And  in  the  depth  be  praise  : 
In  all  His  words  most  wonderful  ; 

Most  sure  in  all  His  ways  ! 

Woe  to  thee,  man  !  for  he  was  found 

A  recreant  in  the  fight ; 
And  lost  his  heritage  of  heaven, 

And  fellowship  with  light. 


THE  DREAM  OE  GERONTIUS.     219 

ve  him  now  the  angry  sky. 
and  the  tempest's  din  : 
Who  once  had  Angels  for  his  friends, 
Had  but  the  brutes  for  kin. 

O  man  I  a  savage  kindred  they  : 

To  flee  that  monster  brood 
He  scaled  the  seaside  cave  and  clomb 

The  giants  of  the  wood. 

With  now  a  fear,  and  now  a  hope. 
With  aids  which  chance  supplied. 

From  youth  to  eld,  from  sire  to  son. 
He  lived,  and  toil'd,  and  died. 

He  dreed  his  penance  age  by  age  . 

And  step  by  step  began 
Slowly  to  doff  his  savage  garb. 

And  be  again  a  man. 

And  quicken'd  by  the  Almighty's  breath. 
And  chasten'd  by  His  rod, 

And  taught  by  angei-visitings. 
At  length  he  sought  his  God  : 


2  20       THE   DREAM  OF  GERONTIUS. 

And  learn 'd  to  call  upon  His  Name 

And  in  His  faith  create 
A  household  and  a  lather-land 

A  city  and  a  state. 

Glory  to  Him  who  from  the  mire, 

In  patient  length  of  days, 
Elaborated  into  life 

A  people  to  His  praise  ! 

Soul. 

The  sound  is  like  the    rushing  of  the  wind — 
The  summer  wind — among  the  lofty  pines  ; 
Swelling  and  dying,  echoing  round  about, 
Now  here,  now  distant,    wild   and  beautiful  ; 
While,    scatter'd    from  the   branches    it   has 

stirred, 
Descend  ecstatic  odors. 

Third  Choir  of  Angelicals. 

Praise  to  The  Holiest  in  the  height, 

And  in  the  depth  be  praise  : 
In  all  His  words  most  wonderful  ; 

Most  sure  in  all  His  ways  ! 


\ 


THE   DREAM  OE  GERONTILS.      22 1 

The  Angels,  as  beseem ingly 

To  spirit-kind  was  given. 
At  once  were  tried  and  perfected, 

An^l  took  their  seats  in  heaven. 

For  them  no  twilight  or  eclipse  ; 

Xo  growth  and  no  decay  : 
Twas  hopeless,  all-ingulfing  night, 

Or  beatific  day. 

But  to  the  younger  race  there  rose 

A  hope  upon  its  fall  : 
And  slowly,  surely,  gracefully, 

The  morning  dawn'd  on  all. 

And  ages,  opening  out,  divide 

The  precious,  and  the  base. 
And  from  the  hard  and  sullen  mass 

Mature  the  heirs  of  grace. 

O  man  !  albeit  the  quickening  ray. 

Lit  from  his  second  birth, 
Makes  him  at  length  what  once  he  was. 

And  heaven  grows  out  of  earth  : 


2  22       THE  DREAM  OF  GERONTIUS. 

Yet  still  between  that  earth  and  heaven-   • 

His  journey  and  his  goal — 
A  double  agony  awaits 

His  body  and  his  soul. 

A  double  debt  he  has  to  pay 

The  forfeit  of  his  sins  : 
The  chill  of  death  is  past,  and  now 

The  penance-fire  begins. 

Glory  to  Him,  who  evermore 

By  truth  and  justice  reigns  ; 
Who  tears  the  soul  from  out  its  case, 

And  burns  away  its  stains  ! 

Angel. 

They  sing  of  thy  approaching  agony, 
Which  thou  so  eagerly  didst  question  of : 
It  is  the  face  of  the  Incarnate  God 
Shall   smite  thee  with   that  keen  and  subtle 
pain  ; 

And  yet  the  memory  which  it  leaves  will  be 
A  sovereign  febrifuge  to  heal  the  wound  ; 
And  yet  withal  it  will  the  wound  provoke, 
And  aggravate  and  widen  it  the  more. 


77/ 

S     I  "L. 

Thou   speakest   myst  still  methii 

know 

rather  would  I  heai 
Than  for  m    ~  -.Ivy  interpreter. 

BKL. 

When  then — if  such  thy  a  seest  thy 

Judj 
The  sight  of  Him  will  kindle  in  thy  b 
All  tender,  gracious,  reverent  s     s 

Thou   wilt 

Him, 
And  feel  as  though  thou  coolds  Him. 

That  one  so  sweet  should  e'er  have    | 

Himself 

ised 
So  vilely  by  a  being  so  vile  as 
Ther  fading  in  His  pensive  eyes 

Will  |  quick,   and    : 

thee. 
And  thou  wilt  hate  and  loath 

though 


224      THE  DREAM  OF  GEROXTIUS. 

Now    sinless,    thou    wilt  feel  that    thou    hast 

sinn'd, 
As  never  thou  didst  feel  ;  and  wilt  desire 
To  slink  away,  and  hide  thee  from  His  sight : 
And  vet  wilt  have  a  longing  aye  to  dwell 
Within  the  beauty  of  His  countenance. 
And    these    two    pains,   so    counter    and    so 

keen,  — 
The  longing  for  Him,  when  thou  seest  Him 

not ; 
The  shame  of  self  at  thought  of  seeing  Him, — 
Will  be  thy  veriest,  sharpest  purgatory. 

Soul. 

My  soul  is  in  my  hand  :  I  have  no  fear, — 
In  His  dear  might  prepared  for  weal  or  woe. 
But  hark  !  a  grand,  mysterious  harmony  : 
It  floods  me  like  the  deep  and  solemn  sound 
Of  many  waters. 

Angel. 

We  have  gain'd  the  stairs 
Which    rise  towards  the    Presence-chamber  ; 
there 


1 


\M  OF  GEROXTI'  .  .       2  2~: 

A  band  of  mighty  Angels  keep  the  way 

On  either  side,  and  hvmn  the  Incarnate  God. 


Angels  of  the  Sacred  Stair. 

Father,  whose  goodness  m  >ne  can  know,  but 

they 
Who  see  Thee  face  to  fa 
By  man  hath  come  the  infinite  display 

Of  thy  victorious  grace  : 
But  (alien  man — the  creature  of  a  day — 

Skills  not  that  love  to  trace. 
It    needs,     to    tell    the    triumph    Thou    hast 

wrought. 
An  Angel's  deathless  fire,    an  Angel's  reach 
of  thought. 

It  needs  that  very  Angel,  who  with  awe 

Amid  the  garden  shade. 
The  great  Creator  in  His  sickness  saw. 

Soothed  by  a  creature's  aid. 
And  agonized,  as  victim  of  the  Law 

Which  He  Himself  had  made. 


2  26      THE  DREAM   GF  GERONTWS. 

For  who  can  praise  Him  in   His  depth  and 

height, 
But  he  who  saw  Him  reel  amid  that  solitary 

fight  ? 

Soul. 

Hark  !  for  the  lintels  of  the  presence-gate 
Are  vibrating  and  echoing  back  the  strain. 

Fourth  Choir  of  Akgelicals. 

Praise  to  the  Holiest  in  the  height, 

And  in  the  depth  be  praise  ; 
In  all  His  wrords  most  wonderful  ; 

Most  sure  in  all  His  ways  ! 

The  foe  blasphemed  the  Holy  Lord, 

As  if  He  reckon'd  ill, 
In  that  He  placed  His  puppet  man 

The  frontier  place  to  fill. 

For,  even  in  his  best  estate, 

With  amplest  gifts  endued, 
A  sorry  sentinel  was  he, 

A  beinsr  of  flesh  and  blood. 


THE  DREAM   OF  GERONTIUS. 

As  though  a  thing,  who  for  his  help 
Must  needs  possess  a  wife, 

Could  cope  with  those  proud  rebel  fa 
Who  had  angelic  life. 

And  when,  by  blandishment  of  Eve, 
That  earth-born  Adam  fell, 

He  shriek'd  in  triumph,  and  he  cried, 
• '  A  sorry  sentinel  : 

"The  Maker  by  His  word  is  bound. 

Escape  or  cure  is  none  ; 
He  must  abandon  to  his  doom, 

And  slay  His  darling  Son." 

Angel. 

And  now  the  threshold,  as  we  traverse  it 
Utters  aloud  its  glad  responsive  chant. 

Eifth  Choir  of  Angelicals. 

Praise  to  the  Holiest  in  the  height. 

And  in  the  depth  be  praise  : 
In  all  His  words  most  wonderful  ; 

Mosc  sure  in  all  His  ways  ! 


22  8     THE   DREAM  OF  GERONTIUS. 

O  loving  wisdom  of  our  God  ! 

When  all  was  sin  and  shame, 
A  second  Adam  to  the  fight 

And  to  the  rescue  came. 

O  wisest  love  !  that  flesh  and  blood 

Y\  nich  did  in  Adam  fail, 
Should  strive  afresh  against  their  foe, 

Should  strive  and  should  prevail  ; 

And  that  a  higher  gift  than  grace 
Should  flesh  and  blood  refine, 

God's  Presence  and  His  very  Self, 
And  Essence  all-divine. 

O  generous  love  !  that  He  who  smote 

In  man  for  man  the  foe: 
The  double  agony  in  man 

For  man  should  undergo  ; 

And  in  the  garden  secretly, 
And  on  the  cross  on  high, 

Should  teach  His  brethren  and  inspire 
To  suffer  and  to  die. 


THE   DREAM  OF  GERONTIUS,     229 

§  6. 
Angel. 

Thy  judgment  now  is  near,  for  we  are   come 
Into  the  veiled  presence  of  our  God. 

Soul. 
I  hear  the  voices  that  I  left  on  earth. 

Axgel. 
It  is  the  voice  of  friends  around  thy  bed. 
Who  say  the  "  Subvenite  "  with  the  priest. 
Hither  the  echoes  come  ;  before  the  Throne 
Stands  the  great  Angel  of  Agony, 
The  same  who  strengihen'd  Him.  what  time 

He  knelt 
Lone   in   that  garden  shade,     bedew'd    with 

blood." 
That  Angel  best  can  plead  with   Him  for  all 
Tormented  souls,  the  dying  and  the  dead. 

Axgel  of  the  Agony. 

Jesu  !  by  that  shuddering  dread  which  fell  on 

Thee  ; 
jesu  !    by  that  cold   dismay   which    sicken'd 

Thee  ; 


230     THE  DREAM    OF  GEROftTIUS. 

Jesu  !  by  that  pang  of  heart  which  thrill' d  in 

Thee  ; 
Jesu  !  by  that  mount  of  sins  which  crippled 

Thee  ; 
Jesu  !    by   that  sense  of  guilt    which    stifled 

Thee  ; 
Jesu  !  by  that  innocence  which  girdled  Thee  ; 
Jesu  !  by  that  sanctity  which  reign "d  in  Thee  ; 
Jesu  !  by  that  Godhead  which  was  one  with 

Thee  ; 
Jesu  !  spare  these  souls  which  are  so  dear  to 

Thee  ; 
Who  in  prison,    calm  and  patient,   wait  for 

Thee  ; 
Hasten,  Lord,  their  hour,  and  bid  them  come 

to  Thee, 
To  that  glorious  Home,  where  they  shall  ever 

gaze  on  Thee. 

Soul. 
I  go  before  my  Judge.      Ah  !  .    .    .   . 
Ax  GEL. 
....   Praise  to  His  Name  ! 
The  eager   spirit    has  darted  from   my  hold, 
And,  with  intemperate  energy  of  love, 


..]/  OF  GERONTIVS.     231 

Fli  is  to  the  dear  foot  of  Emmanuel  ; 

"Rut,  ere  it  reach  them,  the  keen  sanctity. 
Which  with  its  effluence,  like  a  glory,  clothes 
And  circles   round   the  Crucified,  has  seized, 
And  scorch'd,  and  shrivell'd  :   and  now  it  lies 
Passive  and  still  before  the  awful  Throne. 
O  happy,  suffering  soul  !    for  it  is  safe, 
Consumed,  yet  quicken'd.    by  the   dance  of 
God. 

Soul. 

Take  me  away,  and  in  the  lowest  deep 

There  let  me  be. 
And    there    in    hope  the  lone    night-watches 
keep, 

Told  out  for  me. 
There,  motionless  and  happy  in  my  pain. 

Lone,  not  forlorn, — 
There  will  I  sini-  my  sad  perpetual  strain, 

Until  the  morn. 
There  will  I  sing,   and  soothe    my    stricken 
breast. 

Which  ne'er  can  cease 
To  throb,  and  pine,  and  languish,  till  p<_ is 

Of  its  Sole  Peace. 


232      THE  DREAM  OF  GERONTIUS. 

There  will  I  sing  my  absent  Lord  and  Love  : — 

Take  me  away, 
That  sooner  I  may  rise,  and  go  above, 
And  see  Him  in  the  truth  of  everlasting  day. 

§  7. 

Angel. 

Now  let  the  golden  prison  ope  its  gates, 
Making  sweet  music,  as  each  fold  revolves 
L^pon  its  ready  hinge. 

Souls  in  Prison. 

1.  Lord,  Thou  hast  been  our  refuge  ;  in  every 

generation  ; 

2.  Before  the  hills  were  born,  and  the  world 

was  ;  from  age  to  age  Thou  art  God. 

3.  Bring  us  not,  Lord,  very  low  ;  for  Thou 

hast  said,  Come  back  again,  ye  sons  of 
Adam. 


7V.  AM  OF  GERONTIUS.     2$$ 

4.  A  thousand  year  5 are  but 

yesterday  :  and  as  a  watch  of  the  night 
which  is  come  and  gone. 

5.  The  grass  springs  up  in  the  morning  :  at 

evening  tide  it  shrivels  up  and  dies. 

6.  So  we  fail  in  Thine  anger  :  and  in  Thy 

wrath  are  we  troubled. 

7.  Thou   hast  set  our  sins  in  Thy  sight  :  and 

our  round  of  days  in  the  light  of  Th\ 
countenance. 

8.  Come  back,  O  Lord  !   how  long  ;  and  be 

entreated  for  Thy  servants. 

9.  In  Thy  morning  we  shall  be  filled    with 

Thy  mercy  :  we  shall  rejoice  and  be  in 
pleasure  all  our  days. 

10.  We  shall  be  glad  according  to    the    days 

of  our  humiliation  :  and  the  years  in 
which  we  have  seen  evil. 

11.  Look.  O   Lord,  upon   Thy  sen-ants  and 
on  Thv  work  :  and  direct  their  children 


234        THE   DREAM  OF   GERONTIUS. 

12.  And  let  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  our  God 
be  upon  us  :  and  the  work  of  our  hands, 
establish  Thou  it. 


Glory  be  to  the  Father,  and  to  the  Son  :   and 

to  the  Holy  Ghost. 
As  it  was  in  the  beginning,  is  now,  and   ever 

shall  be  :  world  without  end.      Amen. 
*  *  *  *  •  * 

The  Oratory.  January,  iS6j. 


struggling  passions  lower; 
})  Touch VI  by  its  influence,  in 
the  soul  arise 
Diviner    feelings,     kindred 

with  the  skies. 
By  this  the  Arab's  kindling 

thoughts  expanc 
When  circling  skies  enclose 
the  desert  sand  : 
For  this  the  hermit  seeks  the  thickest  grove, 
To  catch  th'  inspiring  glow  of  heavenly  love. 
It  is  not  solely  in  the  freedom  given 
To  purify  and  fix  the  heart  on  heaven  ; 
There  is  a  Spirit  singing  aye  in  air, 
That  lifts  us  high  above  all  mortal  care. 
Xo  mortal  measure  swells  that  mystic  sound, 
Xo    mortal    minstrel    breathes    such    tones 
around, — 

235 


27,6  APPENDIX. 

The  Angels'  hymn, — the  sovereign  harmony 
That  guides  the  rolling  orbs  along  the  sky, — 
And  hence  perchance  the  tales  of  saints  who 

view'd 
And  heard  Angelic  choirs  in  solitude, 
By  most  unheard, — because  the  earthly  din 
Of  toil  or  mirth  has  charms  their  ears  to   win. 
Alas  for  man  !  he  knows  not  of  the  bliss, 
The  heaven  that  brightens  such  a  life  as  this. 

Oxford.  Michaelmas  Term,  18 18. 


TO  F.   W.   X. 


A    BIRTHDAY    OFFERING. 


Dear  Frank,  this  morn  has  ushered  in 
The  manhood  of  thy  days  ; 

A  boy  no  more,  thou  must  begin 
To  choose  thy  future  ways  ; 

To  brace  thy  arm,  and  nerve  thy  heart, 

For  maintenance  of  a  noble  part. 


TO   I  2 ■ - 

And  thou  ,-n. 

i 

is  dimm'J  thy  sun-lit  heaven 
In  wear 

.  erekrn  Wisdom  in  its  .grace 
:h safe  to  thee  s         .  _      race. 

,  are  link'd  with  chain 
That  time  shall  n 
:her  we  have  been  in  pain, 
gather  now  in 

share  may  claim 
The  present  brightness  of  thy  name. 

is  no  recent  tie 

Which  binds  our  fates  in  c  i 
E'en  from  our  tender  infancy 

The  twisted  thread  was  spun  :  — 
Her  deed,  who  stored  in  her  fond  mind 
Our  fern.  :d  love  enshrined. 

In  her  affection  all  had  share, 

she  loved  them  all  ; 
Yet  Ml  her  ear"; 

Did  her  full  iavor  fell  ; 

1  Of  course  the  allusion  is  not  to  the  author's  moth- 
.  mother  has  no  favo: 


2  $8  APPENDIX. 

And  we  became  her  dearest  theme, 
Her  waking  thought,  her  nightly  dream. 


Ah  !  brother,  shall  we  e'er  forget 
Her  love,  her  care,  her  zeal  ? 

We  cannot  pay  the  countless  debt, 
But  we  must  ever  feel  ; 

For  through  her  earnestness  were  shed 

Prayer-purchased  blessings  on  our  head, 

Though  in  the  end  of  days  she  stood, 
And  pain  and  weakness  came, 

Her  force  of  thought  was  unsubdued, 
Her  fire  of  love  the  same  ; 

And  e'en  when  memory  fail'd  its  part, 

We  still  kept  lodgment  in  her  heart. 

And  when  her  Maker  from  the  thrall 

Of  flesh  her  spirit  freed, 
No  suffering  'companied  the  call, 

— In  mercy  'twas  decreed, — 
One  moment  here,  the  next  she  trod 
The  viewless  mansion  of  her  God. 


TO  F.    IT.    AT.  239 

Now  then  at  length  she  is  at  rest, 

And,  after  many  a  woe, 
Rejoices  in  that  Saviour  blest, 

Who  was  her  hope  below  ; 
Kept  till  the  day  when  he  shall  own 
His  saints  before  His  Father's  throne. 

So  it  is  left  for  us  to  prove 

Her  prayers  were  not  in  vain  ; 

And  that  God's  grace-according  love 
Has  fall'n  as  gentle  rain. 

Which,  sent  in  the  due  vernal  hour, 

Tints  the  young  leaf,  perfumes  the  flower. 

Dear  Frank,  we  both  are  summon'd  now 
As  champions  of  the  Lord  ; — 

Enroll'd  am  I,  and  shortly  thou 
Must  buckle  on  thy  sword  ; 

A  high  employ,  nor  lightly  given, 

To  serve  as  messengers  of  heaven  ! 

Deep  in  my  heart  that  gift  I  hide  ; 

I  change  it  not  away 
For  patriot-warrior's  hour  of  pride, 

Or  statesman's  tranquil  sway  ; 


240  APPENDIX. 

For  poet  s  fire,  or  pleader's  skill 

To  pierce  the  soul  and  tame  the  will. 

O  !  may  we  follow  undismay'd 
Where'er  our  God  shall  call  ! 

And  may  His  Spirit's  present  aid 
Uphold  us  lest  we  fall  ! 

Till  in  the  end  of  days  we  stand, 

As  victors  in  a  deathless  land. 

Chiswick.  June  2j^  1826. 


NATURE  AND  ART. 

FOR    AN    ALBUM. 

"  Man  goeth  forth  "  ]  with  reckless  trust 

Upon  his  wealth  of  mind, 
As  if  in  self  a  thing  of  dust 

Creative  skill  might  find  ; 
He  schemes  and  toils  ;  stone,  wood,  and  ore 
Subject  or  weapon  of  his  power. 

1  Psalm  civ.  [ciii.]  23. 


k 


NATURE  AND  ART.  241 

By  arch  ana  spire,  by  tower-girt  heights, 

He  would  his  boast  fulfil  : 
By  marble  births,  and  mimic  lights,— 

Yet  lacks  one  secret  still  ; 
Where  is  the  master-hand  shall  give 
To  breathe,  to  move,  to  speak,  to  live  ? 

0  take  away  this  shade  of  might, 
The  puny  toil  of  man, 

And  let  great  Nature  in  my  sight 
Unroll  her  gorgeous  plan  ; 

1  cannot  bear  those  sullen  walls, 

Those  eyeless  towers,  those  tongueless  halls. 

Art's  labor'd  toys  of  highest  name 
Are  nerveless,  cold,  and  dumb  ; 

And  man  is  fitted  but  to  frame 
A  coffin  or  a  tomb  : 

Well  suit  when  sense  is  pass'd  away, 

Such  lifeless  works  the  lifeless  clav. 

Here  let  me  sit  where  wooded  hills 

Skirt  yon  far-reaching  plain  ; 
While  cattle  bank  its  winding  rills, 

And  suns  embrown  its  grain  ; 
16 


242  APPENDIX. 

Such  prospect  is  to  me  right  dear, 
For  freedom,  health,  and  joy  are  here. 


There  is  a  spirit  ranging  through 
The  earth,  the  stream,  the  air  ; 

Ten  thousand  shapes,  garbs  ever  new, 
That  restless  One  doth  wear  ; 

In  color,  scent,  and  taste,  and  sound 

The  energy  of  life  is  found. 

The  leaves  are  rustling  in  the  breeze, 

The  bird  renews  her  song  ; 
From  field  to  brook,  o'er  heath,  o'er  trees, 

The  sunbeam  glides  along  ; 
The  insect,  happy  in  its  hour, 
Floats  softly  by,  or  sips  the  flower. 

Xow  dewy  rain  descends,  and  now 
Brisk  showers  the  welkin  shroud  ; 

I  care  not,  though  with  angry  brow 
Frowns  the  red  thunder-cloud  : 

Let  hail-storm  pelt,  and  lightning  harm, 

'Tis  Nature's  work,  and  has  its  charm. 


NATURE  AND   ART.  243 

Ah  !  lovely  Nature  I  others  dwell 
Full  favor'd  in  thy  court  ; 

I  of  thy  .-miles  but  hear  them  tell, 

And  feed  on  their  report, 
Catching  what  glimpse  an  Clcombe  yields 
To  strangers  loitering  in  her  fields. 

I  go  where  form  has  ne'er  unbent 

The  sameness  of  its  sway  : 
Where  iron  rule,  stern  precedent, 

Mistreat  the  graceful  day  ; 
To  pine  as  prisoner  in  his  cell, 
And  yet  be  thought  to  love  it  well. 

Yet  so  His  high  dispose  has  3 

Who  binds  on  each  his  part  ; 
.  rh  absent,  I  may  cherish  yet 

An  Uicombe  of  the  heart  : 
Calm  verdant  hope  divinely  given. 
And  suns  of  peace,  and  scenes  of  heaven  ; — 

A  soul  prepared  His  will  to  meet. 

Full  fix'd  His  work  to  do  ; 
Not  labor' d  into  sudden  heat, 

But  inly  born  anew. — 


244  APPENDIX. 

So  living  Nature,  not  dull  Art, 

Shall  plan  my  ways  and  rule  my  heart. 

Ulcombe.  Sept.  1826. 


SNAPDRAGON. 

A    RIDDLE 
FOR    A    FLOWER    BOOK. 

I  am  rooted  in  the  wall 

Of  buttress'd  tower  or  ancient  hall  ; 

Prison'd  in  an  art-wrought  bed, 

Cased  in  mortar,  cramp'd  with  lead  ; 

Of  a  living  stock  alone 

Brother  of  the  lifeless  stone. 

Else  unprized,  I  have  my  worth 
On  the  spot  that  gives  me  birth  : 
Nature's  vast  and  varied  field 
Braver  flowers  than  me  will  yield, 
Bold  in  form  and  rich  in  hue, 
Children  of  a  purer  dew  ; 
Smiling  lips  and  winning  eyes 
Meet  for  earthly  paradise. 


SNAPDRAGON. 

Choice  are  such, — and  y.et  thou  knowest 
Highest  he  whose  lot  is  lowest. 
They,  proud  hearts,  a  home  reject 
Framed  by  human  architect  ; 
Humble-I  can  bear  to  dwell 
Near  the  pale  recluse's  cell, 
And  I  spread  my  crimson  bloom, 
Mingled  with  the  cloister's  gloom. 

Life's  gay  gifts  and  honors  rare, 

Flowers  of  favor  !  win  and  wear  ! 

Rose  of  beauty,  be  the  queen 

In  pleasure's  ring  and  festive  scene 

Ivy.  climb  and  cluster,  where 

Lordly  oaks  vouchsafe  a  stair. 

Vaunt,  lair  Lily,  stately  dame, 

Pride  of  birth  and  pomp  of  name, 

Miser  Crocus,  starved  with  cold 

Hide  in  earth  thy  timid  gold. 

Travell'd  Dahlia,  freely  boast 

Knowledge  brought  from  foreign  coast. 

Pleasure,  wealth,  birth,  knowledge,  power 

These  have  each  an  emblem  flower  ; 

So  for  me  alone  remains 

Lowly  thought  and  cheerful  pains. 


246  APPEXDTX. 

Be  it  mine  to  set  restraint 

On  roving  wish  and  selfish  plaint  ; 

And  for  man's  drear  haunts  to  leave 

Dewy  morn  and  balmy  eve. 

Be  it  mine  the  barren  stone 

To  deck  with  green  life  not  its  own 

So  to  sofcen  and  to  grace 

Of  human  works  the  rugged  face. 

Mine,  the  Unseen  to  display 

In  the  crowded  public  way, 

Where  life's  busy  arts  combine 

To  shut  out  the  Hand  Divine. 


Ah  !  no  more  a  scentless  flower, 
By  approving  Heaven's  high  power, 
Suddenly  my  leaves  exhale 
Fragrance  of  the  Syrian  gale. 
Ah  !  'tis  timely  comfort  given 
By  the  answering  breath  of  Heaven 
May  it  be  !  then  well  might  I 
In  College  cloister  live  and  die. 

Ulcombe.  Oct.  2,  1S27. 


A   PICTURE.  247 


A  PICTURE. 
"  The  maiden  is  ooi  dead,  but  sleepeth." 

She  is  not  gone  : — still  in  our  sight 
That  dearest  maid  shall  live. 

In  form  as  true,  in  tints  as  bright. 
As  youth  and  health  could  give. 

Still,  still  is  ours  the  modest  eye  : 
The  smile  unwrought  by  art  : 

The  glance  that  shot  so  piercingly 
AfYection's  keenest  dart  ; 

The  thrilling  voice,  I  ne'er  could  hear 

But  felt  a  joy  and  pain  . — 
A  pride  that  she  was  ours,  a  fear 

Ours  she  might  not  remain  ; 

Whether  the  page  divine  call'd  forth 
Its  clear,  sweet,  tranquil  tone. 

Or  cheerful  hymn,  or  seemly  mirth 
In  sprightlier  measure  shown  : 


24S  APPENDIX. 

The  meek  inquiry  of  that  face, 

Musing  on  wonders  found, 
As  'mid  dim  paths  she  sought  to  trace 

The  truth  on  sacred  ground  ; 

The  thankful  sigh  that  would  arise, 
When  aught  her  doubts  removed, 

Full  sure  the  explaining  voice  to  prize, 
Admiring  while  she  loved  ; 

The  pensive  brow,  the  world  might  see 
When  she  in  crowds  was  found  ; 

The  burst  of  heart,  the  overflowing  glee 
When  only  friends  were  round  ; 

Hope's  warmth  of  promise,  prompt  to  fill 
The  thoughts  with  good  in  store, 

Match'd  with  content's  deep  stream,  which  still 
Flow'd  on,  when  hope  was  o'er  ; 

That  peace,  which,  with  its  own  bright  day, 
Made  cheapest  sights  shine  fair  ; 

That  purest  grace,  which  track'd  its  way 
Safe  from  aught  earthly  there. 


A    PICTURE.  249 

Such  was  she  in  the  sudden  hour 
That  brought  her  Maker's  call,— 

Proving  her  heart's  self-mastering  power 
Blithely  to  part  with  all, — 

All  her  eye  loved,  all  her  hand  press'd 

With  keen  affection's  glow, 
The  voice  of  home,  all  pleasures  best, 

All  dearest  thoughts  below. 

From  friend-lit  hearth,  from  social  board. 

All  duteously  she  rose  ; 
For  faith  upon  the  Master's  word 

Can  rind  a  sure  repose. 

And  in  her  wonder  up  she  sped, 

And  tried  relief  in  vain  ; 
Then  laid  her  down  upon  her  bed 

Of  languor  and  of  pain, — 

And  waited  till  the  solemn  spell 

(A  ling'ring  night  and  day, ) 
Should  fill  its  numbers,  and  compel 

Her  soul  to  come  away. 


250  APPENDIX. 

Such  was  she  then  ;  and  such  she  is, 
Shrined  in  each  mourner's  breast  ; 

Such  shall  she  be,  and  more  than  this, 
In  promised  glory  blest ; 

When  in  due  lines  her  Saviour  dear 

His  scattered  saints  shall  range, 
And  knit  in  love  souls  parted  here, 

Where  cloud  is  none,  nor  change. 

Oxford.  August,  1828. 


MY    LADY    NATURE    AND     HER 
DAUGHTERS. 

Ladies,  well  I  deem,  delight 

In  comely  tire  to  move  ; 
Soft,  and  delicate,  and  bright, 

Are  the  robes  they  love. 
Silks,  where  hues  alternate  play, 
Shawls,  and  scarfs,  and  mantles  gay? 
Gold,  and  gems,  and  crisped  hair, 
Fling  their  light  o'er  lady  fair. 


MY  LADY  NATURE.  251 

Tis  not  waste,  nor  sinful  pride, 

— Name  them  not,  nor  fault  beside, — 

But  her  very  cheerfulness 

Prompts  and  weaves  the  curious  dress  : 

While  her  holy  :  thoughts  still  roam 

Mid  birth-friends  and  scenes  of  home. 

Pleased  to  please  whose  praise  is  dear, 

Glitters  she  ?  she  glitters  there  ; — 

And  she  has  a  pattern  found  her 

In  Nature's  glowing  world  around  her. 

Nature  loves,  as  lady  bright. 

In  gayest  guise  to  shine. 
All  forms  of  grace,  all  tints  of  light, 

Fringe  her  robe  divine. 
Sun-lit  heaven,  and  rain-bow  cloud, 
Changeful  main,  and  mountain  proud, 
Branching  tree,  and  meadow  green, 
All  are  deck'd  in  broider'd  sheen. 
Not  a  bird  on  bough-propp'd  tower. 
Insect  slim,  nor  tiny  flower, 
Stone,  nor  spar,  nor  shell  of  sea 
But  is  fair  in  its  degree. 

1  Via.  1  Pet.  iii.  5  ;  and  cf.  Gen.  xxiv.  22,  28-30. 


252  APPENDIX. 

Tis  not  pride,  this  vaunt  of  beauty  ; 
Well  she  'quits  her  trust  of  duty  ; 
And,  amid  her  gorgeous  state, 
Bright,  and  bland,  and  delicate, 
Ever  beaming  from  her  face 
Praise  of  a  Father's  love  we  trace. 

Ladies,  shrinking  from  the  view 

Of  the  prying  day, 
In  tranquil  diligence  pursue 

Their  heaven-appointed  way. 
Noiseless  duties,  silent  cares, 
Mercies  lighting  unawares, 
Modest  influence  working  good, 
Gifts,  by  the  keen  heart  understood, 
Such  as  viewless  spirits  might  give, 
These  they  love,  in  these  they  live. — 
Mighty  Nature  speeds  her  through 
Her  daily  toils  in  silence  too  : 
Calmly  rolls  her  giant  spheres, 
Sheds  by  stealth  her  dew's  kind  tears  ; 
Cheating  sage's  vex'd  pursuit, 
Churns  the  sap,  matures  the  fruit, 
And,  her  deft  hand  still  concealing. 
Kindles  motion,  life,  and  feeling. 


MY  LADY  NATURE.  -:j 

Ladies  love  to  laugh  and  smjg, 
To  rouse  the  chord's  lull  sound, 

Or  to  join  the  festive  ring 

Where  dancers  gather  round. 
Not  a  sight  so  fair  on  earth. 
As  a  lady's  graceful  mirth  : 
Xot  a  sound  so  chasing  pain, 
As  a  lady's  thrilling  strain. — 
Nor  is  Nature  left  behind 
In  her  lighter  moods  of  mind  ; 
Calm  her  duties  to  fulfil, 
In  her  glee  a  prattler  still. 
Bird  and  beast  of  every  sort 
Hath  its  antic  and  its  sport  : 
Chattering  brook,  and  dancing  gnat, 
Subtle  cry  of  evening  bat, 
M':»ss  uncouth,  and  twigs  grotesque, 
These  are  Nature's  picturesque. 

Where  the  birth  of  Poe^v  ? 

Its  fancy  and  its  tire  ? 
Nature's  earth,  and  sea.  and  sky. 

Fervid  thoughts  inspire. 
Where  do  wealth  and  power  find  rest. 
When  hopes  have  fail'd,  or  toil  opprest  ? 


2  54  APPENDIX. 

Parks,  and  lawns,  and  deer,  and  trees, 
Nature's  work,  restore  them  ease. — 
Rare  the  rich,  the  gifted  rare, — 
Where  shall  work-day  souls  repair, 
Unennobled,  unrefined, 
From  the  rude  world  and  unkind  ? 
Who  shall  friend  their  lowlv  lot  ? 
High-born  Nature  answers  not. 
Leave  her  in  her  starry  dome. 
Seek  we  lady-lighted  home. 
Nature  Tmid  the  spheres  bears  sway, 
Ladies  rule  where  hearts  obey. 

Oxford.  February  4,  1829. 


MONKS. 

'  FOR    A    SMALL    ALBUM. 
( With  lines  on  hinges  to  fit  it.) 

Why,  dear  Cousin, 

why 
Ask  for  verses, 
when  a  poet's 
fount  of  song  is 

dry  : 


MONKS.  255 

Or,  if  aught  be 

there, 
Harsh  and  chill,  it 
ill  may  touch  the 
hand  of  lady 

fair. 
Who  can  perfumed  waters 

bring 
From  a  convent 

spring  ? 


'  Monks  in  the  olden 

time, 
"  They  were  rhymesters  ?  "- 
they  were  rhymesters, 
but  in  Latin 

rhyme. 
Monks  in  the  days  of 

old 
Lived  in  secret, 
in  the  Church's 
kindly-sheltering 

fold. 


.^ 


256  APPENDIX, 

No  bland  meditators 
they 

Of  a  courtly 

lay. 

'They  had  visions 

bright  ?  "- 
they  had  visions, 
yet  not  sent  in 
slumbers  soft  and 

light. 
Xo  !  a  lesson 

stern 
First  by  vigils, 
fast,  and  penance 
theirs  it  was  to 

learn. 
This  their  soul-ennobling 

gain, 
Joys  wrought  out  by 

pain. 

"  When  from  home  they 

stirr'd, 
"  Sweet  their  voices  ?  " — 


MONKS.  257 

still,  a  bles 

closed  their  merriest 

word  ; 
And  their  gayest 

smile 

Told  of  musi:.. 

solitary, 

and  the  hallow'd 

aisle. 
"Songsters?  " — hark  !  they  answer  ! 

round 
Plaintive  chantings 

sound  ! 

Grey  his  cowled 

vest, 
Whose  strong  heart  has 
pledged  his  service 
to  the  cloister 

blest. 
Duly  garb"d  is 

he. 
As  the  frost-work 
gems  the  branches 
of  yon  stately 

tree. 


25  3  APPENDIX. 

;Tis  a  danger-thwarting 

spell, 
And  it  fits  me 

well ! 

Oxford,  December ;  1829. 


THE  WINTER  FLOWER. 

A  BIRTHDAY  OFFERING. 
(For  Music.) 

Bloom,  beloved  Flower  ! — 
Unknown  ; — 'tis  no  matter. 

Courts  glitter  brief  hour, 
Crowds  can  but  flatter. 

Plants  in  the  garden 

See  best  the  Sun's  glory  ; 

They  miss  the  green  sward  in 
A  conservatory. 


HOME.  259 

PRIZFD  WHERE'ER  KNOWN. 

Sure  this  is  a  blessing, 
Outrings  the  loud  tone 

Of  the  dull  world's  caressing. 

Oxford.  December  30,  1830. 


HOME. 


Where'er  I  roam  in  this  fair  English  land, 
The  vision  of  a  Temple  meets  my  eves  : 
Modest  without  ;  within,  all  glorious  rise 
Its  love-encluster'd  columns,  and  expand 
Their  slender  arms.      Like   olive-plants    they 

stand, 
Each  answ'ring  each,  in    home's    soft  sympa- 
thies, 
Sisters  and  brothers.      At  the  altar  sighs 
Parental  fondness,  and  with  anxious  hand 
Tenders  its  offering  of  young  vows  and  prayers. 
The  same,  and  not  the  same,  go  where  I  will, 
The  vision  beams  !  ten    thousand    shrines,  all 

one. 
Dear  fertile  soil  !  what  foreign  culture  bears 


260  APPENDIX. 

Such  fruit  ?     And  I    through    distant   climes 

may  run 
My  weary  round,  yet  miss  thy  likeness  still. 
Oxford.  November  16,  1832. 


THE  ISLES  OF  THE  SIRENS. 

Cease,  Stranger,  cease  those  piercing  notes, 

The  craft  of  Siren  choirs  : 
Hush  the  seductiye  yoice,  that  floats 

Upon  the  languid  wires. 

Music's  ethereal  fire  was  given. 

Not  to  dissolve  our  clay, 
But  draw  Promethean  beams  from  Heaven, 

And  purge  the  dross  away. 

Weak  self !  with  thee  the  mischief  lies, 

Those  throbs  a  tale  disclose  ; 
Xor  age  nor  trial  has  made  wise 

The  Man  of  many  woes. 
Off  Lisbon.  December  13,  1832. 


CORCYKA.  261 


CORCYRA. 

I  sat  beneath  an  olive's  branches  grey. 
And  gazed  upon  the  sight  of  a  lost  town, 
By  sage  and  poet  raised  to  long  renown  : 
Where  dwelt  a  race  that  on  the  sea  held  sway, 
And.  restless  as  its  waters,  forced  a  way 
For  civil  strife  a  hundred  states  to  drown. 
That  multitudinous  stream  we  now  note  down 
As  though  one  life,  in  birth  and  in  decay. 
But  is  their  being's  history  spent  and  run, 
Whose  spirits  live  in  awful  singleness, 
Each  in  its  self-form'd  sphere  of  light  or  gloom  ? 
Henceforth,  while  pondering  the  fierce  deeds 

then  done, 
Such  reverence  on  me  shall  its  seal  impress 
As   though    I   corpses  saw.   and  walk'd   the 

tomb. 

At  Scd,  January  7,   rSjj. 


262  APPENDIX. 

MESSINA. 

"Homo  sum  ;  humani  nil  a  me  alienum  puto." 

Why,  wedded  to    the    Lord,  still   yearns    my 

heart 
Towards  these  scenes  of  ancient  heathen  fame  ? 
Yet  legend  hoar,  and  voice  of  bard  that  came 
Fixing  my  restless  youth  with  its  sweet  art, 
And  shades  of  power,  and  those  who   bore   a 

part 
In  the  mad  deeds  that  set  the  world  in  flame, 
So  fret  my  memory  here, — ah  !  is  it  blame? — 
That  from  my  eyes  the  tear  is  fain  to  start. 
Nay,  from  no  fount  impure  these  drops  arise  ; 
'Tis  but  that  sympathy  with  Adam's  race 
Which  in  each  brother's  history  reads  its  own. 
So  let  the  cliffs  of  this  fair  place 
Be  named  man's  tomb  and    splendid    recora- 

stone, 
High  hope,  pride- stain'd,  the  course   without 

the  prize. 
Messina,  February  9,  1833. 


FROGRFSS   OF   UNBELIEF. 


PROGRESS  OF  UNBELIEF. 

Now  is  the  Autumn  of  the  Tree  of  Life  : 

Its  leaves  are  shed  upon  the  unthankful  earth, 

Which  lets  them  whirl,  a  prey  to  the  winds' 

strife, 
Heartless    to    store    them  for  the  months  o( 

dearth. 
Men  close  the  door,   and  dress  the  cheerful 

hearth. 
Self-trusting  still  :   and  in  his  comely  gear 
Of  precept  and  of  rite,  a  household  Baal  rear. 

But  I  will  out  amid  the  sleet,  and  view 
Each  shrivelling  stalk  and  silent-lalling  leaf. 
Truth  after  truth,  of  choicest  scent  and  hue. 
Fades,  and  in  lading  stirs  the  Angels'  grief. 
L^nanswer'd  here  :  for  she,  once  pattern  chief 
Of  faith,     my     Country,    now  gross-hearted 

grown, 
Waits  but  to  burn  the  stem  before  her  idol's 

throne. 


264  APPENDIX. 

THE  PRIESTLY  OFFICE. 

FROM    ST.     GREGORY    NAZIANZEK. 

In  service  o  er  the  Mystic  Feast  I  stand  ; 

I  cleanse  Thy  victim-flock,  and  bring  them 

near 
In  holiest  wise,  and  by  a  bloodless  rite. 
O  Fire  of  Love  !   O  gushing  Fount  of  Light  1 
(As  best  I  know,    who  need  Thy  cleansing 

Hand) 
Dread  office  this,  bemired  souls  to  clear 
Of  their  defilement,  and  again  make  bright. 

Oxford.  J8S4' 


THE    MARRIED    AND    THE    SINGLE. 

A     FRAGMENT     FROM    ST.     GREGORY     NAZIAXZEX. 

As,  when  the  hand  some  mimic  form  would 

paint, 
It  marks  its  purpose  first  in  shadows  xaint, 
And  next,  its  store  of  varied  hues  applies, 
Till  outlines  fade,  and  the  full  limbs  arise ; 


THE  MARRIED  AXD  THE  SINGLE.  265 

So  in  the  earlier  school  of  sacred  lore 
The  Virgin-life  no  claim  of  honor  bore, 
While  in  Religion's  youth  the  Law  held  sway. 
And  traced  in  symbols  dim  that  better  way. 
But,    when    the    Christ    came    by    a   Virgin- 
birth, — 
His    radiant    passage    from    high    heaven    to 

earth, — 
And,  spurning  father  for  His  mortal  state, 
Did  Eve  and  all  her  daughters  consecrate, 
Solved  fleshly  laws,  and  in  the  letter's  place 
Gave  us  the  Spirit  and  the  Word  of  Grace, 
Then  shone  the  glorious  Celibate  at  length, 
Robed  in  the  dazzling  lightnings  of  its  strength. 
Surpassing  spells  of  earth  and  marriage  vow, 
As  soul  the  body,  heaven  this  world  below, 
The  eternal  peace  of  saints  life's  troubled  span, 
And  the  high  throne  of  God,  the  haunts  of 

man. 
So  now  there  circles  round  the  King  of  Light 
A   heaven  on  earth,   a  blameless    court  and 

bright, 
Aiming  as  emblems  of  their  God  to  shine, 
Christ  in  their  heart,  and  on  their  brow  His 
Sign,— 


266  APPENDIX. 

Soft  funeral  lights  in  the  world's  twilight  dim, 
Loving  their  God,  and  ever  loved  by  Him. 

Ye  countless  multitudes,,  content  to  bow 
To  the  soft  thraldom  of  the  marriage  vow  ! 
I  mark  your  haughty  step,  your  forward  gaze, 
Gems  deck  your  hair,   and  silk  your  limbs 

arrays  ; 
Come,    tell     the    gain    which    wedlock    has 

conferrd 
On  man  ;  and  then  the  single  shall  be  heard. 

The  married  many  thus  might  plead,  I  wean  ; 
Right  glib  their  tongue,  full  confident  their 

mien  : — 
"  Hear  all  who  live  !    to  whom  the  nuptial 

rite 
Has  brought  the  privilege  of  life  and  light. 
We,  who  are  wedded,  but  the  law  obey 
Stamp'd  at  creation  on  our  blood  and  clay, 
What  time  the  Demiurge  our  line  began, 
Oped  Adam's  side,  and  out  of  man  drew  man. 
Thenceforth  let  children  of  a  mortal  sod 
Honor   the    law  of  earth,  the  primal  law  of 

God. 


THE   MARRIED  AND  THE  SINGLl 

"List,  y  -u  shall   hear  the  gilts  of  price  that 

lie 
Gathered  and  bound  within   the  marriage-tie. 
What  taught  the  arts  of  life,  the  truths  which 

sleep 
In  earth,  or  highest  heaven,  or  vast}-  deep? 
What   fill'd   the   mart,  and   urged   the    vessel 

brave 
To  link  in  one  fair  countries  o'er  the   wave? 
What  raised   the  town  ?   what   gave   the   type 

and  germ 
Of  social  union,  and  of  sceptre  firm  ? 
What    the  first  husbandman,     the    glebe    to 

plough. 
And  rear  the  garden,  but  the   marriage  vow  ? 


1 '  Nay,    list    again  !     Who    seek    its    kindly 

chain, 
A  second  self,  a  double  presence  gain  ; 
Hands,  eyes,  and  ears,  to  act   or  sutler  here, 
Till    e'en   the    weak   inspire    both    love    and 

fear. — 
A  comrade's  sigh  to  soothe  when  cares  annoy, 
A  comrade's  smile,  to  elevate  his  joy. 


268  APPENDIX. 

'  Nor  say  it  weds  us  to  a  carnal  life, 

When  want  is  urgent,    fears  and    vows   art 

rife. 
Light  heart  is  his,  who  has  no  yoke  at  home, 
Scant  prayer  for  blessings,  as  the  seasons  come; 
But  wife,  and  offspring,  goods   which  go  or 

stay, 
Teach  us  our  need,  and  make  us  trust  and 

pray. 
Take  love  away,  and  life  would  be  defaced, 
A  ghastly  vision  on  a  howling  waste, 
Stern,  heartless,  reft  of  the  sweet  spells  which 

swage 
The   throes  of  passion,    and  wThich  gladden 

age. 
No  child's  sweet  pranks,  once  more  to  make 

us  young  ; 
No  ties  of  place  about  our  heart-strings  flung  ; 
No  public  haunts  to  cheer  ;   no  festive  tide 
When   harmless   mirth  and  smiling  wit  pre- 
side ; 
A    life  which    scorns    the    gifts     by    heaven 

assigned, 
Nor  knows  the  sympathy  of  human  kind. 


Tllh  MARRIED  AND  THE  SINGLE.    269 

*•  Prophets  and    teachers,    priests  and   victor 
king 

Deck'd  with  each  grace  which  heaven-taught 

nature  brings, 
These  were  no  giant  offspring  of  the  earth, 
But    to    the     marriage-promi.se     owed     their 

birth  : — 
Moses  and  Samuel,  David,  David's  Son, 
The  blessed  Tishbite,  the  more  blessed  John, 
The  sacred  Twelve  in  apostolic  choir, 
Strong-hearted    Paul,    instinct    with     seraph 

fire, 
And  others,  now  or  erst,  who  to  high  heaven 

aspire. 
Bethink  ye  ;   should  the  single  state  be  best, 
Yet  who  the    single,  but  my  offspring  ble 
My  sons,    be   still,    nor     with    your    parents 

strive  : 
They  coupled  in  their  day,  and  so  ye  live." 

Thus  marriage   pleads.       Now   let  her   rival 

speak — 
Dim  is  her  downcast  eye,  and  pale  her  cheek  ; 
Untrimm'd  her  gear  ;  no  sandals  on  her  feet ; 
A  sparest  form  for  austere  tenant  meet. 


270  APPENDIX. 

She  drops  her  veil  her  modest  face  around, 
And  her  lips  open,  but  we  hear  no  sound. 
I  will    address   her  : — "  Hail,    O    child     of 

Heaven, 
Glorious  within  !  to  whom  a  post  is  given 
Hard   by   the   Throne  where  angels  bow  and 

fear, 
E'en   while  thou    hast  a   name  and  mission 

here, 
O  deign  thy  voice,  unveil   thy  brow   and   see 
Thy  ready  guard  and  minister  in  me. 
Oft    hast    thou    come    heaven- wafted   to  my 

breast, 
Bright  Spirit  !   so  come  again,    and   give   me 

rest." 


.   .   .    "  Ah,    who  has  hither  drawn  my  back- 
ward feet, 
Changing  for  worldly  strife  my  lone  retreat  ? 
Where,  in  the  silent  chant  of  holy  deeds, 
I    praise    my    God,  and    tend  the  sick  soul's 

needs  ; 
By  toils  of  day,  and  vigils  of  the  night, 
By  gushing  tears,  and  blessed  lustral  rite. 


THE   QUEEN  OF  SEASOXS.  27 J 

I  have  no  sway  amid  the  crowd,  n 
In  speech,  no  place  in  council  or  in  mart. 
Nor  human  law,  nor  judges  throned  on  high, 
Smile  on  my  Lice,  and  to  my  words  reply. 
Let  others  seek  earths  honors  ;  be  it  mine 
One  law  to  cherish,  and  to  track  one  line, 
Straight    on    towards    heaven    to    press    with 

single  bent, 
To  know  and  love  my  God,  and  then  to  die 

content." 

Oxford.  I$34- 


THE  QUEEN  OF  SEASONS. 
(a  Song  for  ax  inclement  Mat.  ) 

All  is  divine 

which  the  Highest  has  made, 
Through  the  days  that  He  wrought. 

till  the  day  when  He  stay'd  : 


2*]2  APPENDIX, 

Above  and  below, 

within  and  around, 
From  the  centre  of  space, 

to  its  uttermost  bound. 


In  beauty  surpassing 

the  Universe  smiled, 
On  the  morn  of  its  birth, 

like  an  innocent  child, 
Or  like  the  rich  bloom 

of  some  delicate  flower  ; 
And  the  Father  rejoiced 

in  the  work  of  His  power. 


Yet  worlds  brighter  still, 

and  a  brighter  than  those, 
And  a  brighter  again, 

He  had  made,  had  He  chose 
And  you  never  could  name 

that  conceivable  best, 
To  exhaust  the  resources 

the  Maker  possess' d 


THE   QC/EEA  273 

But  I  kn<  m  1  >f  one  work 

of  His  Infinite  Hand, 
Which  special  and  singular 

ever  must  stand  ; 
So  perfect,  so  pure, 

and  of  gifts  such  a  store, 
That  even  Omnipotence 

ne'er  shall  do  more. 


The  freshness  of  May, 

and  the  sweetness  of  June, 
And  the  fire  of  July 

in  its  passionate  noon. 
Munificent  August, 

September  serene, 
Are  together  no  match 

for  my  glorious  Queen. 


O  Mary,  all  months 

and  all  days  are  thine  own, 
In  thee  lasts  their  joyousness, 

when  the}-  are  gone  ; 
18 


274  APPENDIX. 

And  we  give  to  thee  May, 

not  because  it  is  best, 

But  because  it  comes  first, 

and  is  pledge  of  the  rest. 

The  Oratory,  1850* 


HEATHEN   GREECE. 
(a  song.) 

Where  are  the  Islands  of  the  Blest  ? 

They  stud  the  ^Egean  Sea  ; 
And  where  the  deep  Elysian  rest  ? 
It  haunts  the  vale  where  Peneus  strong 
Pours  his  incessant  stream  along, 
While  craggy  ridge  and  mountain  bare 
Cut  keenly  through  the  liquid  air, 
And,  in  their  own  pure  tints  array' d, 
Scorn  earth's  green  robes  which  change  and 

fade, 
And  stand  in  beauty  undecay'd, 
Guards  of  the  bold  and  free. 


TO  EDWARD   CA  Sir  ALL.  :"5 

h  it  is  Afric,  but  the  heme 
•ling  Fhlegethon  ? 

What  the  low  beach  and  silent  g] 
And  chilling  mists  of  that  dull  n\     . 
Along  whose  bank  the  thin  ghosts  shiver, — 
The  thin  wan  ghosts  that  once  were  men, — 
But  Tauris.  isle  of  moor  and  fen, 
Or,  dimly  traced  by  seamen's  ken. 

The  pale-cliff 'd  Albion. 
The  Orator  T#j6. 


TO  EDWARD  CASWALL 

(A    GIFT    FOR    THE     NEW    YEAR.    IX    RETURN     I 
HIS  VOLUME  OF  POEMS.  ) 

Oxce.  o'er  a  clear  calm  pool, 
The  fulness  of  an  over-brimming  spring, 
I  saw  the  hawthorn  and  the  chestnut 
Their  willing  arms,  of  vernal  blossoms  full 
And  light  green  leaves  :  the  lilac  too  was  theic, 
The  prodigal  laburnum,  dropping  gold. 
While  the  rich  gorse  along  the  turf  crept  n€ 
Close  to  the  fountain's  margin,  and  made  1 
To  peep  into  that  pool.  and  clear  : — 


276  APPENDIX. 

As  if  well  pleased  to  see  their  image  bright 
Reflected  back  upon  their  innocent  sight  ; 
Each  flower  and  blossom  shy 
Lingering  the  live-long  day  in  still  delight, 
Yet  without  touch  of  pride,  to  view, 
Yea,  with  a  tender,  holy  sympathy, 
What  was  itself,  yet  was  another  too. 

So  on  thy  verse,  my  Brother  and  my  Friend, 

— The  fresh  upwelling  of  thy  tranquil  spirit, — 

I  see  a  many  angel  forms  attend  ; 

And  gracious  souls  elect, 

And  thronging  sacred  shades,  that  shall  inherit 

One  day  the  azure  skies, 

And     peaceful    saints,   in    whitest    garments 

deck'd; 
And  happy  infants  of  the  second  birth  : — 
These,  and  all  other  plants  of  Paradise, 
Thoughts    from  above,   and  visions  that  are 

sure, 
And  providences  past,  and  memories  dear, 
In  much  content  hang  o'er  that  mirror  pure, 
And  recognize  each  other's  faces  there, 
And  see  a  heaven  on  earth. 
The  Oratory.  Janua?y  1,  1858. 


INDEX. 


All-bountiful  Creator,  who 

All  is  divine     ...... 

All  tender  lights,  all  hues  divine 
And  would'st  thou  reach,  rash  scholar  mine 
Are  these  the  tracks  of  some  unearthly  Friend 
As,  when  the  hand  some  mimic    form    would 
paint  ...... 

Banish'd  the  House  of  sacred  rest    . 
Between  two  comrades  dear     . 

Bide  thou  thy  time 

Cease,  Stranger,  cease  those  piercing  notes 
Christ  bade  His  followers  take  the  sword 
Come,  Holy  Ghost,  who  ever  One 
Creator  of  the  starry  pole 

s  herald  bird    . 
Dear  Frank,  this  morn  has  usher'd  in 
Death  was  full  urgent  with  thee,  Sister  dear 
Deep  in  his  meditative  bower  . 
Did  we  but  see 
Do  not  their  souls,  who  'neath  the  Altar  wait 

277 


l'AGE 
162 
271 
139 

34 
4i 

264 

65 
176 

52 
260 
no 

156 

169 
148 
236 
26 
ior 

S2 
126 


278  INDEX. 

Each  trial  has  its  weight;  which,  whoso  bears 

Ere  yet  I  left  home's  youthful  shrine 

Faint  not,  and  fret  not,  for  threaten' d  woe 

Father  of  Lights,  by  whom  each  day 

Father  of  mercies  infinite 

Framer  of  the  earth  and  sky     . 

"  Give  any  boon  for  peace  "    . 

Glory  of  the  eternal  Heaven     . 

Hark,  a  joyful  voice  is  thrilling 

Haunting  gloom  and  fitting  shades 

Hid  are  the  saints  of  God 

How  can  I  keep  my  Christmas  feast 

How  didst  thou  start,  Thou  Holy  Baptist,  bid 

How  shall  a  child  of  God  fulfil 

I  am  rooted  in  the  wall    .... 

I  bear  upon  my  brow  the  sign 

I  bow  at  Jesu's  name        .... 

I  dream'd  that,  with  a  passionate  complaint 

I  have  been  honor'd  and  obey'd 

I  rise  and  raise  my  clasped  hands  to  Thee 

I  sat  beneath  an  olive's  branches  grey 

I  saw  thee  once,  and  nought  discern 'd      . 

If  e'er  I  fall  beneath  Thy  rod  . 

In  childhood,  when  with  eager  eyes 

In  service  o'er  the  Mystic  Feast  I  stand    . 

Jesus,  Maria — I  am  near  to  death     . 

Ladies,  well  I  deem,  delight    . 

Latest  born  of  Jesse's  race 

Lead,  Kindly  Light,  amid  the  encircling  gloom 


INDEX. 


279 


TAGE 

Let  heathens  sing  Thy  heathen  praise     .  ,  59 

Let  ua  arise,  and  watch  by  night     .         .  .  135 

Light  of  the  anxious  heart        ....  174 

Lord,  in  this  dust  Thy  sovereign  voice     .  .  32 

Lord  of  untxnin dec!  space           .          .          .  .  160 

"  Man  goeth  forth  "  with  reckless  trust    .  .240 

Man  is  permitted  much     .          .         .         .  .122 

Many  the  guileless  years  the  Patriarch  spent  .  75 

May  the  dread  Three  in  One,  who  sways  .  140 

Mid  Balak's  magic  tires  .                   ...  83 

Mortal  !  if  e'er  thy  spirits  faint         ...  54 

Moses,  the  patriot  fierce,  became      .          .  5 1 

My  Father's  hope  !  my  childhood's  dream  .  62 

My  home  is  now  a  thousand  miles  away   .  .  47 

My  oldest  Friend,  mine  from  the  hour       .  -179 

My  smile  is  bright,  my  glance  is  free         .  .  4° 

is  the  Autumn  cf  the  Tree  of  Life    .  .  263 

Now  that  the  day-light  dies  away    .         .  .  16S 

Now  that  the  day-star  glimmers  bright    .  .  154 

Oaged  Saint!  far  off  I  heard             ...  44 

O  comrade  bold  of  toil  and  pain        .         .  •  105 

O  God  from  God,  and  Light  from  Light  .  .  137 

O  God,  of  Thy  soldiers    .         .         .         •  -  75 

O  God,  unchangeable  and  true         .         .  •  15$ 

O  God,  who  canst  not  change  nor  fail       .  .  1 5 7 

O  God,  who  hast  given    .          .         .         .  .164 

O  heart  of  fire  !  misjudged  by  wilful  man  .  68 

O  Holiest  Truth  !   how  have  I  lied  to  Thee  .  12S 

O  Holy  Lord,  who  with  the  Children  Three  .  Si 


2  So  INDEX, 

O  Lord  and  Christ 

O  Lord  !  when  sin's  close-marshaH'd  line 

O  Lord,  who  thron'd  in  the  holy  height  . 

Oh  !  miserable  power       .... 

O  piteous  race  .         .  ... 

O  prophet,  tell  me  not  of  peace 

O  purest  Symbol  of  the  Eternal  Son 

O  rail  not  at  our  kindred  in  the  North     . 

G,  say  not  thou  art  left  of  God 

O  that  Thou  wouldest  rend  the  breadth  of  sky 

O  ye  who  seek  the  Lord  .... 

Of  the  Father  Effluence  bright. 

Once,  as  I  brooded  o'er  my  guilty  state    . 

Once  cast  with  men  of  language  strange  . 

Once,  o'er  a  clear,  calm  pool  . 

One  only,  of  God's  messengers  to  man     . 

Paler  have  grown  the  shades  of  night 

Peace  loving  man,  of  humble  heart  and  true 

Poor  wand'rers,  ye  are  sore  distress' d 

Prune  thou  thy  word-,  the  thoughts  control 

Say,  has  thou  track'd  a  traveller's  round. 

Say,  who  is  he  in  deserts  seen  . 

Secure  ia  his  prophetic  strength. 

See,  the  golden  dawn  is  glowing 

She  is  not  gone  ; — still  in  our  sight  . 

Sleep  has  refresh 'd  our  limbs,  we  spring   . 

Some  one  whisper'd  yesterday. 

Souls  of  the  just  .      . 

Supernal  Word,  proceeding  from 


INI  i 


2»I 


The  Angel-lights  of  Christmas  morn  . 

The  ark  of  G  >d  has  hidden  strength 

The  better  portion  didst  thou  choose,  Great 

Heart 

The  Church  shone  brightly  in  her  youthful  da 

The  dawn  is  sprinkled  o'er  the  sky  . 

"  The  Fathers  are  in  dust,  yet  live  to  God  M 

The  number  of  Thine  own  complete 

The  red  sun  is  gone         .... 

The  time  has  been,  it  seem'd  a  precept  plain 

The  world  has  cycles  in  its  course,  when  all 

There  is  in  stillness  oft  a  magic  power 

There  is  not  on  the  earth  a  soul  so  base 

They  are  at  rest        .... 

They  do  but  grope  in  learning's  pedant  round 

Thou  champion  high 

Thou  to  wax  fierce  . 

Thrice  bless'd  are  they,  who  feel  their  Ion 

ness  ....... 

Thy  words  are  good,  and  freely  given 

Time  was,  I  shrank  from  what  was  right 

To-day  the  Blessed  Three  in  One     . 

Two  brothers  freely  cast  their  lot 

Unveil,  O  Lord,  and  on  us  shine 

Unwearied  God,  before  whose  face 

We  are  not  children  of  a  guilty  sire 

Weep  not  for  me 

What  time  my  heart  unfolded  its  fresh  leaves 

When  hist  earth's  rulers  welcomed  home 


PAGE 

178 
118 

53 

,     90 

153 

86 
1S2 

167 
106 

IP3 

235 
120 

131 

42 

186 

36 

63 
50 
67 
133 

"5 

1S4 

57 
77 
28 

72 
95 


282  INDEX. 

PAGE 

When  first  God  stirred  me,  and  the  Church's 

word          .         .         .          .          .          .  1 13 

When  Heaven  sends  sorrow       ....  79 

When  I  am  sad,  I  say       .....  92 

When  I  look  back  upon  my  former  race  .         .  121 

When  I  sink  down  in  gloom  or  fear.          .         .  117 

When  I  would  search  the  truths  that  in  me  burn  94 

When  mirth  is  full  and  free       ....  76 

When  royal  Truth,  released  from  mortal  throes  55 

Whence  is  this  awe,  by  stillness  spread     .         .  48 

Whene'er  across  this  sinful  flesh  of  mine  .         .  38 

When'er  goes  forth  Thy  dread  command           .  116 

Where  are  the  Islands  of  the  Blest  ?.         .         .  274 

WTiere'er  I  roam  in  this  fair  English  land          .  259 
WThile  Moses  on  the  Mountain  lay     .         .         -130 

Who  madest  all  and  dost  control      .          .          .  138 

Whom  all  obey         ......  165 

Why,  dear  Cousin  why    .....  254 

Why  loiterest  within  Simon's  walls  .         .         .112 

Why,  wedded  to  the  Lord,  still  yearns  my  heart  262 

"  Woe  's  me  !  "  the  peaceful  prophet  cried       .  53 

Ye  cannot  halve  the  Gospel  of  God's  grace       .  91 


~N 


